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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

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Milestones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but please let me know if you think I’m forgetting any!

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: You and Nat are starting a family. It’s challenging, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: Welcome to the first series I’ve ever finished! I was a bit hesitant to publish this because, it being my first series, I’m not too sure how good it is and it does hold a special place in my heart, but if just one of you ends up liking it too, it’ll be worth it. This part is all fluff, but there will be angst in future parts. If you’re not a fan of that, this can just be read as a fluffy one-shot :) And big thanks to @vancityfire13 for talking this through with me, I really appreciate it <3

“He’s beautiful,” you sniffed, tears swelling in your eyes and spilling over the edge as they built up. Your wife squeezed your shoulder, and a drop landing just shy of your collarbone told you that she was crying too.

“He’s ours.” You cradled the baby boy—your baby boy—in your arms as he drank from your breast. “I still can’t believe they did it.” You let out a watery chuckle in response.

When Fury approached the two of you after he “accidentally” overheard your and Natasha’s conversation about having kids, you weren’t sure how to react. It was no secret among SHIELD that the two of you were together. In fact, you two had become somewhat of the organization’s power couple immediately after the many rumors claiming you were together were proven to be true. Still, the thought of all their best scientists working together just to give you two a biological child seemed a bit extreme, especially since the two of you did want to adopt someday. Nat, being the overprotective partner she was, was ready to launch herself at Fury, but you managed to pull her back before any real harm was done (Nat later got her revenge, and she made sure Fury didn’t tell you about it; she ended up confessing when you caught her looking just a bit too happy the next day though). The two of you had many long nights of talking over his offer, and before you knew it, you were pregnant with your first child, a child that would be biologically related to you and Natasha.

You guys had spent many nights talking about what your baby might look like, whether they’d have your laugh or her athleticism, your humor or her determination. Nat hoped they would be all you, while you could easily say the opposite.

When it came time to find out the baby’s sex, it took some serious convincing on Natasha’s part to get you to agree. In her mind, having a baby was surprise enough; she had to remind herself everyday that you really were pregnant with your child, her child. She did not need another surprise when the baby came. She wanted to be prepared, and who could blame her? You, on the other hand, wanted to wait. It was just the sex, after all. That didn’t change the preparations much. Nevertheless, after some bribery and more talking, you reluctantly agreed to learn the sex before the baby was born.

Hearing the words “it’s a boy” sent both of you into a tizzy. Nat wasn’t expecting it, and neither were you. Sure, there was a 50% chance of having a boy, but both of you were just so sure that it was a girl. After getting the doctor to check for the third time, you finally accepted that you were wrong.

Then came the discussion of names. What to name him, should he have a nickname, what would he call your friends and family?

One night, you took Natasha out for a walk around the park (this was before you got so big you couldn’t see your own feet) and a nice dinner on the waterfront. With the lights forming a halo around her already glowing face, you told her what you wanted the baby to be named: Igor. The minute you found the name, you knew it was perfect, and when you found out it was Russian and meant “warrior,” well, that was just icing on the cake.

“I’ve already got one Russian warrior who I love and adore more than words can express, and I can’t wait to have another. You’re everything I love and everything I want him to be. I think that’s what his name should be. And I know that, with a mom as perfect as you, he’ll live up to it.” You barely had time to get those last few words out before Natasha leaped over the table, silverware clinking and glasses wobbling as she lunged to pull your face into her hands, the two of you melting at the lips and forgetting about all the other patrons eating around you.

“I love you more than you know,” Natasha let out between breaths, finally letting you go.

“I have a feeling I do,” you giggled, “because I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” You two “argued” about that for the rest of the night.

Then came the nursery. Nat insisted that you only be allowed to help in designing. You were already seven months along, she said, and that was seven too many. Plus, she pointed out with a not-so-subtle wink, she didn’t need help when she had “guns as big as these.” With some not-so-gentle persuasion from Clint, you settled on a farm-themed nursery. Less than a week later, Clint had gone out to god-knows-how-many stores and came back with more than enough decorations and furniture to fill the baby’s room, the many leftovers spilling out into the hallways and even your bedroom (much to his dismay, you made him return more than half of what he bought). The nursery was completed within weeks, and then all the two of you had to do was wait for your little bundle of joy to arrive.

Insistent ringing from Natasha’s phone pulled the two of you out of your peaceful moment.

“It’s Fury,” Natasha huffed playfully. “He’s asking if ‘the gross part is over yet.’ You ready to show him off to the world?”

“My world is all right here,” you murmured, fully sincere in what you were saying.

“As is mine.” The redhead’s finger lifted your chin up, your gaze shifting from your little boy to the prettiest woman in the universe. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I tell myself that every day,” you smiled, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss.

---

“Nat! Come quick! Hurry! I think he’s going to do it!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” your wife responded with equal urgency. “You going to do it, Igoryok? You going to walk for Mamas?” The baby boy giggled, nothing but pure glee on his face as he pushed himself to stand. You held out your arms to your son, cooing words of encouragement as he stumbled his way towards you. He started maybe only four feet away, but when he finally made it to you, you swung him into the air and you and Nat cheered like he had just finished first in the 400 metres at the Olympics. You could’ve sworn your life couldn’t get any better than it was at that point, safe, happy, and healthy with the two people you loved most in the world right by your side.

“Did you get it on video, Natty?”

“Of course, malyshka. Such a big milestone needs to be kept forever, isn’t that right, Igoryok?” Igor laughed when the redhead reached over and tickled him just under his chin. The two of you soon joined in, his joyous giggles impossible to resist.

“You’re an amazing mother,” Nat murmured to you that night as the two of you laid in bed. “And you’re raising an amazing son. I love you.” She tilted her head down to meet your lips.

“I love you too, Nat, but you’re also raising an amazing son. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She nodded slowly, reluctantly. “What is it?”

“I just… Being here today with you and Igor, it was perfect. Everything was perfect. And I hate how I have to throw us out of that every time I leave.” You frowned as you turned onto your stomach, pushing yourself up on one arm and using the other hand to cup Nat’s face.

“You’re not the only one working, you know. I feel that way too, every time I have to go on a mission or even just leave for the office.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I’m gone so much more often than you are. Especially now that you’ve switched to mostly training others.”

“Just because you’re not here all the time doesn’t make you a bad mom, Tash. You’re the best mom because you love him with all of your heart and you’ll do anything for him. And-“

“I want to retire.”

“What?” Out of all the things that could’ve come out of Nat’s mouth, that was not the one you were expecting or prepared for.

“I wanna be there when he says his first words and when he loses his first tooth and when he goes to school for the first time. I want to be here.”

“But… you love your job.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “But I love Igor more.”

“And Igor will know that. Igor already knows that. Sweetheart, part of doing anything for Igor includes protecting him from bad guys. You do that every day you go to work. You show him you love him by fighting to give him the best life possible. If you want to retire,” your hand finally slid down from her cheek to hold her hand, “then I will support you every step of the way. But if you’re doing this because you think you’re a bad mother if you don’t, then you need to know that that is not true at all.” Natasha bit her lip as she thought over what you said. You gave her the time she needed, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand.

You would be lying if you said you never had those same thoughts. Both of you felt awful every time you had to hand Igor over to one of the nanny or even one of the Avengers or their families. The two of you loved them and Igor loved them, and they always took amazing care of him, but it was hard to not feel bad knowing your child wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. The first time Igor wailed as you handed him over to Laura, you filled out all the retirement paperwork the next day, keeping it on your desk for weeks before you eventually talked yourself out of it.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth to respond, she was interrupted by Igor’s cries from the baby monitor.

“I’ll get him,” your wife reassured you. You nodded reluctantly, not wanting to stop the conversation but knowing you’d have to regardless of who left.

---

“Guess who’s coming home today, buddy?” Igor babbled random syllables back at you, grabbing onto your hair as you lifted him out of his crib. “Gentle, Igor, gentle,” you winced, slowly pulling his hands away from your locks. Sounds from downstairs had you looking away from Igor and towards the hallway.

“That must be Mama!” You weren’t too sure if he understood you, but he definitely fed off of your excitement, letting out another string of syllables and clapping his hands together.

“Hellooo! Anybody home?” Natasha’s red hair was the first thing you saw as you rounded the corner to see the front door. “Hi, rybka! How are you doing?” Your boy held his hands out to Natasha, obviously excited to see her. She grinned back at the two of you, but both of your eyes grew wide when he opened his mouth.

“Mama!” With that one word, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. Nat’s eyes met yours, the love she felt for you and your son overflowing in the form of crystal droplets that filled her green orbs.

“That’s right, Igor, Mama. Can you give Mama a kiss?” You smiled as you handed Igor to Nat, your little boy puckering his lips dramatically to plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, Igoryok,” the redhead laughed. “He said ‘Mama,’ Y/N. His first word! He called me ‘mama.’” She was smiling so hard her cheeks were practically trembling.

“Because you are his mama. The best mama in the whole wide world,” you murmured, kissing her other cheek.

“No one could ever be as good as you. I love you so much, malyshka.”

“I love you too.”

“Mama!” The two of you laughed once again, your intimate moment interrupted but neither of you could complain.

“How was the mission?” you asked, both of you somewhat preoccupied with the bouncing babe in Nat’s arms.

“Good. Clean.”

“No injuries?”

“Not even a bruise.” You scanned her face and body to see if she was lying, and eventually nodded once you were satisfied.

“Good. Now, I believe it is someone’s dinner time.”

---

“Hi, Igoryok, how was school?”

“Hi, Mama. It was good. We learned about the letter ‘m’ today. Mama, did you know ‘m’ goes ‘mm’?”

“It does? I thought it sounded different.”

“No, Mama, you’re silly. Your name starts with an ‘m.’”

“Huh, I think you’re right. Did you know that, babe? Mama starts with an ‘m,’” Natasha winked at you.

“No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that with me,” you smiled back. “You're not going to say hi to me, Iggy?”

“Hi, Mom. Your name starts with ‘m’ too.” Igor bent over the center console in between the two of you. “Can we get ice cream? Please?” Your wife laughed before turning to you.

“I’m not too sure what that has to do with letters, but what do you say, Mom?” Nat asked, a smirk on her face as she emphasized the first letter.

“Um, it does because…” The two of you watched, amused, as Igor’s face scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, he lit up, a grin overtaking his expression. “It does because ice cream starts with an “i”! And my name starts with an “i” too, Mamas. Which means I should get some ice cream.” He paused for a moment upon seeing the two of you glance at him expectantly. “Please?”

“You’re very right, Ig,” you smiled. “And for that, we can go get ice cream. But I thought you would’ve wanted to go to the park. We brought your bike.”

“You did?” His baby-tooth grin only grew when he turned to see the lime green metal and black handlebars peeking out of the trunk. “Yes! Mama, c’mon, let’s go!”

“You need to buckle up, Igoryok, or we’re not going anywhere.” The four-year-old rushed to his car seat. The minute he was settled, he began squirming again.

“Can we still get ice cream after?”

“Sure, Iggy,” you laughed. Nat removed her right hand from the steering wheel and rested it on your thigh.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Mama, you took the training wheels off, right?”

“Yep,” your wife grunted, lifting the bike out of the car and placing it on the pavement.

“Mom, watch me! I’m going to ride it all by myself! Today’s the day, I can feel it!” You managed to grab him by the shoulders just before he could hop on the bike.

“Not so fast, what are you forgetting, buddy?”

“Uh, a positive attitude?”

“That’s important, but I think you have plenty of that right now,” you smiled. “Try again.” Igor bit his lip as he thought about what he could possibly be missing.

“I love you?”

“I love you too, but still not it. You remember this?” He groaned when he saw the helmet in your hands.

“I don’t need it, Mom. I won’t fall, I promise!”

“I like that promise, but I still need you to promise to wear this. Okay?”

“But I don’t want to,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Your wife bent down to reach Igor’s eye level.

“Igoryok, can I tell you a secret?” Igor’s tresses bounced as he turned his gaze to Nat, his eyes filled with skepticism. “Well, you know how Mama wears her helmet whenever she goes out on her bike? You wanna know why I do it?”

“Why?” he asked, his skepticism fading into intrigue.

“It helps me balance and makes me go faster. I can’t ride as well as I do without it. In fact, I think I might even fall off.”

“Really? But you’re so good, Mama!” Eyes closed, Nat shook her head.

“Only with my helmet. And only when I wear it correctly. Otherwise I’d fall right off and get hurt. So can you promise to wear your helmet correctly so that you go faster and don’t fall off?”

“Okay, Mama. Can you put it on for me though? I think you’ll do it better.”

“I’d love to, Igoryok.” You flashed Nat a grateful smile as she took the helmet from you to secure it on his head. “Alright, all set. You go get warmed up, yeah?”

“Okay, Mama, but hurry up!”

“I’ll be there in a second, rybka.” Natasha stood up and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Don’t let him see me riding the motorcycle when I’m on a mission.” You stifled a laugh, letting your head rest on her shoulder as you watched Igor waddle around on his bike, his sneakers lighting up every time they hit the pavement.

“I’ll try my best. Have I told you how good of a mother you are?”

“Yes, you have. Multiple times.” You didn’t have to look at Nat to know her cheeks were quickly becoming the same shade as her hair. “I just hope he’ll be this easy to convince when he’s not four.”

“We’ll, uh, cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, it’s a little easier to convince him when he sees you as his hero.”

“Stop with the flattery,” the spy groaned, now extremely flustered.

“But you make it so easy. And so fun.” You squealed immediately after the last word and pulled yourself away from your wife. “Why’d you poke me?”

“Don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what you did.”

“I’m not acting innocent, I am innocent.”

“Are you now?” Natasha stalked towards you, a smirk on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eye. Before she could reach you, though, Igor pushed his way in between the two of you with his bike.

“C’mon, Mama! I warmed up!” With one last glance at you, Natasha sighed.

“Alright, let’s go, Igoryok. You just watch your back, babe. I’ll get you.”

“Ooo, Mom’s in troubleee,” Igor chanted, and with that, they were off.

“Mom! Look at me! I’m going to get it on this one, I can feel it!”

“I’m watching!” you promised despite having never taken your eyes off of Igor and Natasha the whole time. Igor flashed you a grin in response before putting his feet on the pedals. Natasha murmured something in his ear as he started pedaling. She had one hand on the handlebars and one on his back to keep him steady. The pair moved together for a few seconds until Igor began to speed up. Half-running, half-jogging, your wife finally let go of the bike with a firm push to your son’s back, and much to everyone’s delight, he kept going.

“Mom! I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!”

“Pay attention to what’s in front of you, Igoryok!” Natasha called when he began to swerve. Eyes wide, Igor managed to correct himself before he crashed into a tree. You got up from the bench and ran to meet the former assassin, but you kept your eyes on Igor the whole time.

“I guess this family has two biker babes now.”

“I guess we do. Look at him go, malyshka.” Her chest was puffed out, obviously proud of her son, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly as he concentrated on turning around. Your eyes shot open when it seemed like he was going to fall, but he regained his balance and increased his speed twofold on his return to you. “Maybe we should try for another.”

“What?”

“Another, uh, what’d you call it? A biker babe?” Natasha barked out a laugh as you moved to slap her shoulder. “I mean, Igor’s been asking for a sibling for a while now. Maybe it’s time.” Natasha maintained her glance on your son, too nervous to meet your eyes.

“Another biker babe, huh? Or maybe another little fish?”

“Another rybka, yes,” Nat chuckled.

“Maybe it is time.” The former assassin’s shoulders relaxed as you slipped your hand into hers. “A girl this time?”

“We’ll see. It is what Igor’s been asking for, but...” A smirk played on your wife’s face as she remembered when you two first learned you’d be having a son.

“Natasha Jr.?”

“Oh god, no!” your wife laughed.

“Natalia? Natalie?” Natasha buried her face in your neck so that her lips were pressed to your shoulder. She still peeked out slightly to keep an eye on your son.

“Babe, we are not naming the baby after me.”

“What about for her middle name?” Your wife groaned as she hit your arm, but you could feel her lips curving upward.

“No.” Natasha paused, her lower lip stuck between her teeth. “What do you think about Karolina? It means ‘free man.’”

“Karolina,” you repeated. You would’ve teased her about already having a name picked out, but the constant shifting of her right foot told you this maybe wasn’t the right time. “I like it.”

With Igor quickly approaching, you ended the conversation with a peck to Nat’s cheek and bent down to greet your son. When he made it to the two of you, he immediately hopped off of the bike and ran into your open arms.

“I did it, Mom! Did you see me? I turned around too!”

“I did, Iggy! You did so, so good!” You pulled the boy onto your hip. “Don’t tell Mama, but I think you might’ve gone even faster than her.” Igor giggled, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You think so?” he whispered.

“I know so.”

“Ahem, what are you two saying?” Nat had her hands on her hips as her foot tapped the ground, this time out of fake anger rather than nerves.

“Nothing, Mama. Did you see me? I did good, right? And my helmet helped me stay on!”

“I’m very proud of you, Igoryok. Both Mom and I are,” she murmured, tilting her head to avoid the helmet and kiss his cheek. “So now that you know your helmet is good, you have to promise us to wear it whenever you go on your bike, you got it?”

“Got it.” His locks bounced as he nodded his head. “I’m going to go again, okay, Mamas? And then later we can get ice cream?”

“You got it, bud.” You let him down, his legs wiggling before he reached the ground. The second he hit the surface, he was off.

---

You cherished every time you got to see Igor hit a milestone. You and Nat had each missed some—like you being away the day he scored his first soccer goal or Nat going on a mission during his first Halloween—but when you did, the other made sure to talk about it in so much detail you felt like you were there.

And when you were all there together… Your heart filled with pride whenever Igor did something new, but that feeling was nothing in comparison to seeing your son’s pride in himself and having Nat there next to you to experience it. Each milestone of Igor’s was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined because, with each one, you got to see your little boy growing, thriving. For each new accomplishment, you could feel the love between the three of you, practically pull it out of the air, make a cocoon out of it, and wrap yourself in it for weeks on end. Your little boy’s milestones weren’t just for himself, but it was for your family as a whole, the three of you growing closer and stronger with each step. You couldn’t wait to see what he would do next.

-----

Read Chapter 2 here

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #alwaysmarveling #stones

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chaiscentedcandle · 3 years

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Triwizard Tournament (part 1/2)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: George Weasley x fem!reader (reader is implied Gryffindor house)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the reader, along with Harry, gets picked for the Triwizard Tournament and has to save George during the second task!

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: yes/no

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, I think maybe curse words?

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,839

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so, I started from the “beginning” and it’s getting long so I decided to make this into two parts!

The train cart rattled as it rode along the tracks, the twins including Lee chattering about something. The newspaper Y/n was reading would sometimes make noise occasionally when the cart shook, she was reading about the attack at the Quidditch World Cup, she had been their with the Weasley family, same with Harry and Hermione. It was a blur but what she distinctly remembers is running the wrong direction and coming face to face with a group of people wearing all black, their faces covered by gold skeleton masks and their hats were very pointy.

They had no business with her so they let her take off in the other direction, luckily she ran into the back of Fred. Turning around the Twins faces folded with relief as they didn’t have to worry about you and Ginny.

From the distance you could hear the trolley lady, her voice stretching far. Her slightly squeaky wheels bouncing off the walls, soon enough she was stood in front of their cart “anything from the trolley, dears?” She asked like always. Giving a quick glance up, Y/n reached into her pocket and pulled out a little pouch filled with galleons and some sickles, tossing it to Lee and hitting him square in the chest “get yourself’s something, I’m not hungry” she stated, George asked a weary “are you sure?” Before they crowded the opening. Enough money in the pouch to buy them each a thing or two.

“Are you done reading the bloody paper? It’s almost like you’ve been giving it bedroom eyes since you first saw it!” George said, a piece of sweets falling from his mouth to his trousers before he picked it up and but it back in his mouth. Sparing another short glance, Y/n responded “don’t talk with your mouth full, and no I have not, I’ve just decided to read the news for once” a bit of sass laced in her words.

“I agree with George, you haven’t taken your eyes off it, there’s not much in the paper about it” Lee added, and if Lee added Fred wanted to add too “yeah, I mean why read about it when you lived it?” He had a point, doesn’t mean it was a good one.

Y/n just rolled her eyes, Fred wasn’t done talking yet, as always “I mean think about it, it’s probably one measly paragraph or two, it’s a brief topic, why read that when you were in front of a actual death eater!” He said rather loudly with too much enthusiasm.

“You try seeing a death eater Fred, I’m pretty sure you’d wet yourself, plus it wasn’t a long encounter and I didn’t want it to be” George and Lee let out a few chuckles when Y/n said Fred would wet himself. They don’t know if it’d be true, but it was funny.

Lee whistled, catching George’s attention and tossed Y/n’s pouch to George who caught it mid air, beater skills. George placed it in her lap “there’s a few galleons left, Lee wasn’t too hungry either” finally Y/n fully took her eyes off her newspaper, setting it besides her, grabbing her little pouch she picked up her bag and stuffed it in, as she was distracted George took his opportunity to snatch the newspaper from her side.

Upon hearing the crumble of paper and seeing her newspaper gone, Y/n reached to take it from George, who only held it high “come on, George, give it back” Y/n told him, instead he stood up and held it above his head, Y/n followed ahead and tried to reach for her paper, alas she was too short. “George, give it back” she said sternly, he shook his head “no, you keep reading the damn paper over and over again, you’ve probably memorized every word by now, what good is coming out of it?” He asked, Y/n just glared up at him while George smiled a goofy smile at her. Planting her feet and putting her hands on her hips, Y/n was ready to tackle George, true it was just a piece of paper and it was a brief topic but she bought it with her own money “what do I have to do for you to give me back my bloody paper” jokingly George tapped his cheek with his free hand and bent his knees a little.

Y/n stood on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, George was stunned as he thought she would’ve given up, but when he froze Y/n took her chance and snatched the paper out of George’s hand, folding it up.

Everybody had gathered in the courtyard to see the foreign visitors. Y/n being squashed between the twins tall figures.

Hagrid stood down below with two giant paddles in his hands to direct the pegasus pulling a carriage in the air, it seemed to be going well until Hagrid turned his back and turned back around at the perfect second to doge the carriage. Some people let out gasps while others laughed or said “woooah”

“Well! There’s something you don’t see everyday!” Fred said, George responded with a laugh. Then Y/n spotted just the crows nest of a ship sticking out, pointing and leaning her body out a little she said “look! That’s the crows nest of a ship” George grabbed her hips “woah there! We don’t need you falling out” a hot flash of blush spread across her cheeks, as if on cue the tip of a ship shot out and fell forwards to reveal a whole ship. Another course of “woah” was let out, McGonagall walked out to the courtyard and called to the students “please go to your houses and get dressed in your robes, meet back in the great hall, we have an announcement to make!” With that she turned away and made her way back inside.

It wasn’t long before students began to fill the great hall, a few stragglers here and there. Y/n sat In front of George and Fred, next to Angelina, Neville sat across Y/n. They gave each other warm smiles.

Everyone watched the first years being sorted, Gryffindor gaining a few.

Dumbledore made his way to the stand, quieting the Great Hall. “Well now we’re all settled in and sorted, I’d like to make an announcement” just after saying this the Great Hall door opened and in running came Mr.Filch, Dumbledore continued “this castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well” Most of the students had their eyes on Mr.Filch as his heavy breathing echoed even though it wasn’t quiet. “You see, Hogwarts had been chosen-” Mr.Filch finally made it to the front, interrupting Dumbledore, they whispered about something before Mr.Filch took off running again, Dumbledore resumed “so, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a LEGENDARY event” he paused “The Triwizard Tournament!” People whispered among themselves for a bit, the twins whispering “brilliant” between themselves.

“Now for those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests, from each school a single student is selected to compete, now let me be clear” his tone turned to serious “if chosen, you stand alone and trust me when I say these contests aren’t for the faint hearted” then his tone changed back to happy “but more of that later, but now please join me in welcoming, the lovely lady’s of the Beuxbations Academy of Magic!” Just before he was about to finish the doors swing open “and their headmistress, Madam Maxine!” Beautiful, fancy women decked in blue walk into the Great Hall, their hands behind their backs, all proper. They walked before they stopped a let out a sigh, leaning to the right and putting out their hand, they walked again and repeated the same thing before speeding up to the front, most of the boys staring at their bums.

Y/n looked up at George to see him staring as well, she smacks him on the arm and give hims a look, he turns to her with a look of confusion “what?” He asked before turning back around.

Everyone was watching as Madam Maxine made her way through, down the table a bit you could hear Seamus Finnagin say “blimey! That’s one biiig women!” A little girl was in a different outfit and doing flips, along side her another, older, girl who looks similar to her. They get to the front and bow, most boys (and some girls) clap, stand, cheer or all three for the lady’s. George and Fred being one of those boys, Y/n and Angelina give each other a look, Y/n let’s out a “hmpf” and lean her head on her hand, a pout upon her face, George noticed and asked “what’s wrong?” Getting no response she just turns her head away from him, leaning over to look at Angelina, she just gives him a straight smile and raises her eyebrows before also turning away.

Dumbledore put his hands up to silence everyone. “And now our friends from the North! Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang! And their high master Igor Karkaroff!” Y/n faces twisted a little, Angelia nudged her “what is it?” She whispered “Igor Karkaroff served you-know-who in the Wizarding War” she whispered back, Angelinas face began to twist as well. Just then a loud bang came from the front, well fit men walked with staffs, banging them on the ground and chanting, sparks coming from the bottom. They spun and twisted the staffs before some of them abandoned them and made a sprint for the front, some lady’s letting out a gasp and standing to get a better look. Y/n and Angelina begin apart of that, Y/n caught a look at George and it seemed he wasn’t enjoying it too much.

Soon legendary Bulgarian seeker, Viktor Krum and Igor Karkaroff entered, people began to whisper “look!” “It’s krum!” Y/n turned to Angelina, a small smile on her face “I have to admit he’s quite cute!” Angelina let out a laugh, George elbowed her. She turned to George with the same look he gave her “what?!” She gave a little more sass, Neville let out a giggle. She went back to looking at Krum till he caught her eye, giving a wink then looking straight ahead. Heat coated her cheeks, Y/n gushed to Angelina “did you see that?” Angelina and Y/n freaked out amongst themselves for a little.

George rolled his eyes “personally I don’t think Viktor is all that great” he said to Fred who only laughed at his brother.

Everyone began to talk, chatter filling up the Great Hall or eyeing some of the food in front of them, some people paying attention to people brining in a big gold structure. Dumbledore stood next to it “your attention please!” The crowd went silent “I’d like to say a few words” he placed his hand on the gold structure “eternal glory! That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament, but to do this that student must survive three tasks, three EXTREMLY dangerous tasks” Y/n could feel her heart begin to race but she didn’t know why, George looked excited while Fred looked smug “wicked” they both said. “For this reason the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule, to explain all this we have the head of the department of international magical corporation, Mr. Bartimus Crouch” the ceiling begin to rain and a lighting storm, a pretty bad one at that.

Some students began to scream before a red bolt in the corner up at the teachers table was sent out and it was back to normal. A wet, crazy looking man was putting his wand away. “It’s him” Ron said “Mad-Eye Moody” his voice low “Alastor Moody” Y/n said “the auror?” Hermione asked “auror?” Dean Thomas questioned “EX-auror, dark wizard catcher” Y/n said “filled up half of the cells in Azkaban thanks to him” Ron finished “he’s suppose to be mad as a hatter these days”.

The students watched the exchange between Mad-Eye Moody and Dumbledore. The minister Bartimus Crouch began speaking, his arms out and playing with his fingers as he spoke “after due consideration, The Ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen should be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament” Mr. Crouch began to raise his voice as students started to get rowdy and yell “this decision is final!” Students started to get louder and louder, making Mr. Crouch having to speak louder. George and Fred got angry, screaming “that’s rubbish” and booing.

“You don’t know what your doing!!” George yelled, Y/n slapped his arm again “George! Be civil!” She told him, he ignored her.

Students still screamed and protested until Dumbledore screamed “SILEEEENCE!” There was still some murmuring before everyone stopped talking. Dumbledore raised his wand and lowered it, as he did the gold stand began to disappear and a big golden cup appeared, a small blue flame appeared above it which turned to a bigger blue flame. “The Goblet of Fire” Dumbledores voice rang throughout “anyone wishes to submit themselves to the tournament nearly write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night” he paused “do not do so lightly! If chosen, there’s no turning back, as from this moment the Triwizard Tournament has begun” Dumbledore finished.

Y/n could hear the roaring of the fire, it was loud in her ears, her heart beat faster then a pixies wings when it’s was flying. All throughout dinner her hands where shaking, Neville was the first to notice.

“You alright, Y/n?” She casted her eyes up to him, shaking her head “no” and that was the last thing she said for the rest of dinner.

For Y/n it was a short time before it was Wednesday, the day before the picking of the champions, a couple of people including her sat in the room with the Goblet, a blue hue throughout the room. She stared at the cup, as if it would tell her all its secrets, a anxious feeling sitting in her stomach. Hermione sat below Y/n, she was calling her name but Y/n didn’t notice until Hermione was shaking her knee “you alright? You’ve been staring at the cup for a couple of minutes” Y/n blinked a few times before she shrugged her shoulders “I’m scared, I feel like something terrible is going to happen, but it’s hard to explain” just then George and Fred came running in, yelling and laughing, a vial in each of their hands.

“Well lads! We’ve done it!” George said to the few people in front of them “cooked it up just this morning!” Fred added, Hermione turned away from them “it’s not going to work” she sang, George and Fred gave each other a look before each twin was on either side of her.

“Oh yeah?” Said Fred “And why is that Granger?” George asked. Hermione huffed “you see this?” She said sassily and motioned to the blue line around the cup “this is a aging line, Dumbledore drew it himself” she told them “so?” Fred responded, Hermione scoffed “SO, a genius like Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an Aging Potion!”

“Oh but that’s why it’s so brilliant” told Fred

“Because it’s so pathetically dim witted!” Finished George.

“Ready, Fred?”

“Ready, George!”

They locked arms and said “bottoms up!” Both downing the potion before jumping inside the line, nothing happened. Some students cheered and the twins let out a victorious “yeah!” With a little pep in their step they placed their names in the goblet, letting out a another “yeah!” And high-fiving, unfortunately for them the cup went crazy and flung them out of the ring, landing hard in the ground.

Y/n let out a gasp as she stood up, as the twins sat up they both sported long grey hairs and breads to match “you said!” Said Fred “you said!” George repeated, then they began to brawl, rolling and tackling on the ground, everyone cheering.

“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” It started to die out.

Viktor Krum and Karkaroff entered the room, all eyes on them. Viktor entered the ring and placed a piece of parchment in, undoubtedly his name, as he was leaving he eyed Y/n and Hermione. This wasn’t unnoticed by George, who was still an old man, and his noticeable anger didn’t go unnoticed by his brother.

Thursday. Finally the name drawing of the three champions. Y/n hands wouldn’t stop shaking, her and Neville made their way to the Great Hall “are you okay, Y/n? You’re shaking like you’re freezing cold” he asked, she shook her head “I don’t know why, but I’m so scared, I’m getting terrible anxiety” she told him, he rubbed her back and pulled her to his side “you’ll be alright, you’re underage, you can’t get picked” she nodded her head, he was right, of course he was right, she’s only sixteen, shes too young. Neville held her hand to reduce her shaking, it helping somewhat.

Everyone stood in anticipation, eager to see who’d been picked. Y/n never took her eyes off the goblet, not until George nudged her “you okay?” He asked, she shook her head again “no, why does everyone keep asking me that? Don’t I visibly not look okay?” She said a little annoyed, George raised his hands in defense. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his side, just like Neville.

Soon the staff and Dumbledore entered. “Sit down! Please” he said. Hurriedly everyone took their seats, Y/n sitting next to George with Fred next to her. “Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” He paused to build tension “the champion selection!” Quickly Dumbledore turned around, his arm raised as he dimed the fire around the room.

Y/n heart started to beat faster, she wrapped her arm around George’s and curled into him, turning to her he gave her a kiss on the top of her head to calm her. Dumbledore made his way over to the goblet, same hand raised. Once he reached the goblet he set both hands on it for a few seconds then took it off and backed away, the flame turned bright red and he shield his eyes from the brightness, a piece of parchment flew out from the cup, catching it Dumbledore turned it over and read the name. “The Durmstrang champion is....Viktor Krum!” Cheers rang throughout Durmstrang and Viktor mumbled a happy “yes!” fist bumping the air, getting pats on the shoulder he stood up, shaking hands with Dumbledore and moving to the front.

Next was Beauxbatons, Dumbledore turned the fancy blue paper over “the champion for Beauxbations is..Fleur Delacour!” The Beauxbations women cheered and clapped for her, not as loud as Durmstrang, Ron eyed Fleur. Gross.

Next was Hogwarts. “The Hogwarts champion” Dumbledore turned the parchment over “Cedric Diggory!” Hogwarts cheered for Cedric, his friends cheered louder. Y/n let out a sign of relief, maybe she was just overthinking, Neville placed his hand in her shoulder “see! I told you you’d be alright” she gave him a smile to which he returned.

“EXCELLENT!” Dumbledores voice reached throughout the whole room “we now have our three champions!” Y/n could feel the pit in her stomach grow small, but it was still there “but only one will go down in history” Dumbledore continued “only one! Will hoist this Chalice of Champions!” Bartimus Crouch brought in something big, covered in a piece of fabric, he placed it on a stand “this vessel of victory! The Triwizard Cup!” Dumbledore turned around and pointed at the cup, the piece of fabric flew off and relieved a big blue glowing cup. Students began to clap and cheer for the cup.

Snape started to eye the goblet weirdly, the students near the entrance saw the goblet begin to go crazy like when George and Fred tried to put their names in. Dumbledore turned around quickly, the clapping stopped and he made his way to the goblet, it began to grow red like before when the names flew out. The red fire shot up and another piece of parchment flew out, grabbing it Dumbledore turned it quickly to find a name. “Harry Potter...” he mumbled, looking up hastily around the room he repeated once more “Harry Potter?” Students started to look around the room for Harry, Harry sat back down, not wanting to go up or be seen. Hagrid was shaking his head and mumbling “no...no”. Dumbledore grew angry “HARRY POTTER!” He yelled. Y/n could feel the pit in her stomach begin to grow again. Hermione grabbed Harry’s shoulder “come on, Harry” he didn’t move, she grabbed his shoulder and tried to move him “Harry for goodness sake” she said. Harry stood, Hermione shoved him lightly a few times, Ron had a very sour look on his face, Harry made his way to Dumbledore, who didn’t look so please and only shoved the parchment with his name to him, hesitantly taking it Harry made is way to the front, students protested. They were getting angry “he’s a cheat!” Someone shouted “he’s not even seventeen yet!” Someone else said.

Neville tapped Y/n on the shoulder “do you think that’s what you could’ve been feeling?” She shrugged “I don’t know, maybe” she looked back up at the front, only for the goblet start to go wild again, Dumbledore covered his eyes but that couldn’t stop his face from getting more angry. Just like Harry, another parchment flew out, angry enough, Dumbledore snatched it from the air, turning it over to read the other name “Y/n L/n?” He called quite loud. Y/n stomach sank, this is what she had been feeling. Just like Harry, she froze, somehow Dumbledore had found where she was sitting and his face showed he didn’t want to go through with this again. “Y/n come on, don’t make him wait” Neville whispered to her, with wobbly knees she slowly stood up, her hands violently shaking. George stood up too, blocking her from moving “George, what are you doing?” She asked, he just stared down at her, Y/n pulled him in for a hug, something they both needed in the moment. They pulled away and she made her way to Dumbledore, who also pushed the parchment her way but with a little more force, he was more than just angry. Students started to get angry again, two students had been chosen for the tournament who were underage, it was a champion for THREE people but somehow there’s five champions, it was an outrage.

Y/n followed where Harry went, he was technically the only other champion she knew. Following him, he leaned in, nervous as well “doesn’t feel great, does it?” He said, she wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt “no, no it doesn’t”.

Tags!: @the-romanian-is-bae @deadpoolgirl23

#hogwarts #hp imagines #harry potter #hp fanfic #george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader

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rainy-day-gracie · 4 years

Text

Old Friends 6

Warning: Torture and attempted rape, take care of yourselves if you have problems reading!

Fluff/Angst

I also used google translate for Russian since I do not speak Russian, if you can imagine.

Reader gets kidnapped, and the team fears it may be too late.

Enjoy! Chapter 6: We were all eating lunch in the break room when Morgan looked at me with a smile.

“YLN, you knew Spencer pretty well in college, yes?”

“Um, yeah. I would say so.” I said with a giggle.

“Got any stories?”

Spencer groaned. “No, please.”

I laughed. “Um, well... Spencer would always correct the professor. No matter what. On one class day, the professor couldn’t take it anymore. She said ‘Mr. Reid, if you cannot handle a small mistake in my grammar, then you can teach the class!’ And guess what he did?”

“Teach the class?” Morgan was almost dying of laughter.

“Bingo. So a tall, lanky sixteen year old stood by the board and taught everyone for 45 minutes until the class ended. And not only that, he also said ‘Actually Professor, it’s Dr. Reid.”

“I can’t say this story surprises me,” JJ said in between giggles.

“She was teaching the lesson incorrectly! I was doing her a favor,” Spencer exclaimed.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy,” Morgan teased.

My phone buzzed, and my heart started pounding when I saw the caller.

“Um, I have to go really fast... it’s um... I gotta go.” I quickly got up from the table and stood by myself in the bullpen.

“Barry, why are you calling me?” I asked. “I’m not on the surveillance job anymore.”

“We need you right now.” Barry’s deep voice sounded distressed. “Lia and Frankie are dead, and Gretchen just went missing.”

The breath caught in my throat. “Is there the same signature?”

“They were both branded as victims of the Russian Mob in New York City.”

“Do we know where the lap dogs are? If anyone knows what happened to Lia and Frankie, it’s those thugs.”

“We know where they’re holed up, a run down apartment on Lower East side.” Barry paused. “No one knows these guys better than you, YFN. We need you to work your magic. And YFN?”

“Yes?”

“Bring your team. We need all the help we can get.” Barry hung up, and my chest started tightening.

I looked up the stairs. “Hotch!”

---

“Are you sure your former team leader is alright with you bringing us in?” Hotch eyed me questioningly. “You said your old assignment was codeword-classified.”

“It was, but after the new circumstances, Barry gave me the green light to bring you guys in. If you want to,” I added. “I know it’s not a formal case, but I’m going to work it on my own either way. I’m by no means demanding your help.”

“We’ll help you,” Hotch reassured. “We are a family, and you are a part of that family.”

---

“Five years ago, when I had just turned 24, I was assigned a CIA job to conduct surveillance on members of the Russian Mob.” The team stared at me, completely dumbstruck. “I lived and worked from a small, run down apartment down the hall from a foxhole for the Russian Mob. I recorded, analyzed, and reported all their movements.”

Morgan furrowed his eyebrows. “For how long?”

“Three and a half years. These thugs that I lived down the hall from were involved in anything from small drug deals to human trafficking to illegal weapons distribution.” I remembered the small apartment that smelled of stale beer. “No one knows these guys better than I do.”

“Why were you taken off the job?” JJ asked.

“I wasn’t taken off the job. I requested a transfer six months before I left the surveillance apartment. My friend, Lia Morales... she took over the assignment after I left.” I paused for a moment. “She was tortured, murdered and dumped in the Lower East side three weeks ago. My other team member, Frank Castellan, was murdered in the exact same fashion one week ago. Gretchen Ryan, the only other one that knew about the operation bedsides Barry and I, went missing yesterday.”

“Do we have jurisdiction?” Spencer asked.

“Yes, they were federal agents and we are a branch of the Bureau. Let’s take a trip to New York City.” Hotch grabbed the case file and hurried out the door. “Wheels up in 30.”

“We’re meeting my former team leader, Barry Lesley, at the field office.” I called out as I followed closely behind Hotch.

---

Barry looked exactly the same as he did five years ago. Tall, bald, bulging muscles and a large sense of superiority. He went straight into business as he’s always done.

“No time for introductions, YLN I want you positioned nearby the new foxhole for surveillance.” I tried to ignore the way my heart sank at the thought of going back to a tiny apartment like the one I stayed in for three and a half years. “I want the rest of the team focusing on our known group of thugs that do the Mob’s dirty work here at the field office. Everyone got it?”

Everyone got it, but I could see on a few faces looks of irritation and confusion. They weren’t used to Barry’s take charge action, even compared to Hotch.

As we were getting supplies for the surveillance house, Hotch approached me. “YLN, I want you to take someone with you to the surveillance house. If they’re targeting your old team, that means you’re on the list too.”

“Hotch, I left the team before the assignment was blown. They don’t know about me.” I explained.

“Even so, take someone with you.”

I looked up at Spencer. “Wanna join me?”

“Of course. Anything.”

---

The new apartment I’m staying in was even smaller than the last one. The recording gear was scattered on the bed, ready for use.

“So, this was your life for three and a half years?” Spencer asked me.

I let out a bitter laugh as we set up the audio. “Yeah, the only thing that kept me here so long was that I knew I was saving lives.”

“How did you stay sane?”

The question surprised me, then I realized it actually was valid. How did I stay sane? “I didn’t focus on myself. All of my attention was on the people down the hall. Whenever I would hear them talk about ‘packages’ I knew I had to warn somebody.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “Sounds lonely.”

“You have no idea.”

The recorder picked something up. They were speaking in Russian. “Kogda nam ponadobitsya sleduyuschiy pikap?” When are we needed for the next pick up?

“That’s Tevon. He’s almost 30 and he was once on trial for a possible gang related double homicide in Russia six years ago,” I explained to Spencer.

“pozzhe segodnya vecherom boss khochet, chtoby my vzyali dopolnitel'noye vremya s novym paketom.” Later tonight. The boss wants us to take extra time with the new package.

“That’s Eugene. He’s the oldest, and seems to call a lot of the shots in the foxhole. The Boss we haven’t gotten to yet, so we don’t know who he is, but something strange happened a few months before I left the assignment.”

“What happened?”

“Someone shot the old Boss in the head and took his role. By the way these thugs talk about him, they like this new boss a lot better.”

One of the guys got a phone call. “Kakaya? O chem ty govorish'?” What? What are you talking about? “Federaly? Ostavaytes' na linii.” The feds? Hold on.

“This is not good,” I whispered.

All of a sudden the surveillance audio cut out. “Has that ever happened before?” Spencer asked.

“No, never.”

Spencer raced towards the door, and right when he was in front of it, the door opened, and a fist collided with Spencer’s face.

I reached for my gun, but then I remembered that I didn’t bring it. This surveillance job was only supposed to be undercover, so why would I need a weapon?

They knocked Spencer to the ground, and looked over at me. “Tak chto eto krasivaya devushka, kotoraya smotrit na nas.” So this is the pretty girl that’s been watching us. By the voice I could tell it was Eugene.

The three men rushed at me, and I felt one of them jam a needle in my neck before my knees buckled.

---

The first thing I felt was the pain in my arms when I woke up. They were chained above my head, and by the numbness, have been there for a while.

The darkness of the chamber I was in still seemed to cast shadows across the faces of my captors. The biggest, Eugene, was sitting in an old wooden chair, watching me with a smile. The youngest, Igor, was asleep on an old ratty couch in the corner. Tevon was nowhere to be found.

“Hey Boss, she’s awake.” Eugene called out in English.

“Good. Now we can get started.”

The voice made me catch my breath in my throat. It didn’t have any kind of Russian accent, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed.

A fistful of my hair was yanked backwards, and with my head tilted back, I could see into the eyes of the Boss.

Barry.

“You son of a bitch.” I whispered. “You killed Gretchen, didn’t you?”

With his other hand, he traced a line down the center of my throat.

“Yes I did. Are you going to be a good girl for me, YFN?” He whispered, his breath hot in my ear.

When I didn’t answer, he let go of my hair and fully faced me.

His knuckles collided with my jaw, and he leaned in close to my face once I recovered. “Answer the question. Are you going to be a good girl?”

I licked the blood off my lip and spat in his face. “Never.”

Barry just gave me a sick smile, and wiped the blood and saliva off his cheek. “Good. This will be a lot more fun then.”

---

Spencer’s POV

How could she be gone? She was right there and then she wasn’t. I started panicking as the team arrived at the apartment.

“Reid, how many guys were there?” Hotch asked.

“Three guys, one named Eugene, one named Tevon, and I don’t know the last one.”

“I’ll call Garcia to dig up dirt on these guys.” Morgan grabbed his phone and took a few steps away.

“How could they know we were here? Nobody knew about this assignment except for us and-“ Spencer stopped. “Barry Lesley. Where is he?”

Prentiss’s jaw drops. “He said he was going to meet with some contacts a few hours ago but he never came back.”

“We have to find him.” Hotch seemed to age almost ten years older in this moment.

“And when we do, we’ll make him pay for messing with our family.” Rossi added.

---

Reader’s POV

They didn’t even ask me any questions. Barry and Eugene hit me with relentless force for what seemed to be no reason at all.

“Do you want some more?” Barry screamed in my face. Tears dripped down my cheeks and I could feel my broken ribs, but not once did I beg them to stop.

“I’ve figured you out, Barry.” My hoarse voice croaked. “Before I left the assignment, they were looking to me to replace you, weren’t they? You were going to be either demoted or fired, so when I quit the assignment, you got to stay.”

“Shut up!” Barry shouted, and he landed a firm punch to my stomach.

I gasped for air as I continued. “But you never... forgot that a 27 year old woman... was about to take... your job. That’s the reason you... became the Boss... so you could feel any sense of power... that I had taken away from you.”

Barry didn’t raise his fist like I thought he would. Instead he snapped one of his fingers, and Igor handed him a serrated knife. “Maybe you’re profiling me... but that won’t do you any good here.” He didn’t smile, he just walked forward slowly.

Suddenly my arms, which had long gone numb, were yanked upwards. I was pulled off my knees to where I could barely touch the ground with my toes.

Barry wrapped his free hand behind me on my lower back. “You’re going to love this... profiler.”

---

Spencer’s POV

Spencer had never heard Garcia type so fast as she did right now.

“Okay, so the Russian thugs don’t own any property in the US, but Barry Lesley definitely does. He comes from an old New York money family, so he has four properties littered all around the state.”

“Narrow that down to isolated buildings.” Hotch called out to the phone. Spencer was starting to panic. He didn’t even get to tell her...

“Two properties.”

“Barry knows the geographic profile of the comfort zone. If he took YFN to one of those properties, it would be out of his comfort zone as a forensic countermeasure.” Spencer thought about YFN alone in a dirty basement somewhere. “What properties are outside of the comfort zone?”

“Oh my god, there’s only one! Sending it to your phones now. Please go save our friend!”

---

Reader’s POV

The knife was so, so much worse than fists.

Barry had ripped off my shirt, leaving me in my bra and pants. He trailed the knife along my stomach, leaving a line of blood behind.

The sticky feel of blood on my skin made me want to pass out. Barry suddenly pressed the knife down harder, making me scream. When he pulled away, he had a smile.

“Please...” I whispered without thinking.

“What was that?”

My eyesight was blurred in my tears. “Nothing… it was nothing.”

He laughed, and reached for his belt buckle. “I’ve been thinking about this for years.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as he lowered his pants and stalked towards me. I bit my lip as he hooked his fingers into my waistband and pulled them downwards. I did anything I could to take myself out of this moment.

“Have you seen the article explaining how Pi could be a rational number?” Spencer’s wide eyes looked so excited. “It’s totally preposterous, but still an interesting article.”

Rough hands gripping my hips.

“YFN, what did you want to be growing up? I wanted to be a cowboy at first, but then after everything with my mom, I decided I wanted to cure schizophrenia instead.”

Hot breath in my ear. The rancid smell of cigarettes.

“I love you, YFN. I want you to be more than just my friend.”

The maniacal laughter echoing in the dark basement.

“Hey, um, sorry for the late call. I just wanted to let you know that I’m... struggling. Without you. A case... was more difficult than usual. I’m afraid that I’ll be hooked on something forever, and I can’t walk away from it.”

People shouting upstairs. A door being kicked in. The sound of a gunshot.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

A knife being plunged into my stomach. Another gunshot.

“I need a medic in here!” I was let down to the ground, rolling on my back.

Familiar coffee brown eyes looked down at me and warm hands covered the wound on my stomach.

“Spencer...can’t breathe...” I coughed, blood spilling over my chin.

“Hey, I’ve got you.”

---

When I woke up, I could feel the pain that flooded my body. I could feel every broken rib and the deep stab wound in my stomach. I was alone in an unfamiliar room, and my heart started pounding in my chest.

Are you going to be a good little girl?

“Stop,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut again.

This will be a lot more fun then.

“Shut up,” I said louder.

That won’t do you any good here.

“I said, shut up!” The words ripped from my mouth, along with other shouts and screams. I could still hear him, his hot breath whispering in my ear. All I could think of was the feeling of his knuckles against my jaw, his rough hands gripping my hips. And all I knew was that I had to get out of here.

And then I was running, more like stumbling, into the bright hallway as people in scrubs and coats tried to catch me from falling.

A man appeared in front of me in a dark red cardigan and black tie. He was saying something. I stopped running, and sank against the wall. The man’s voice seemed to be underwater.

“Remember that time in college? We were seventeen and I was too afraid to talk to you?” Spencer. He had knelt down in front of me, his hands cradling my head.

“... I got two cups of coffee from the coffee shop... and placed one in front of you in the library.” My voice didn’t sound like mine, as if it was coming from someone else. “I had said...’Coffee is a language in itself.’ You said ‘Jackie Chan.’”

“You don’t have to fight anymore, YFN.” Spencer let go of my face and held my hands.

Cold chains tugging my wrists above my head. I could see the bruises the metal cuffs left.

I didn’t realize I had started shouting and fighting again until a needle was in my arm, and I could feel someone catch me as I fell.

---

I woke up in a foggy state of mind. Dimmed fluorescent lights hurt my eyes, and I didn’t feel any pain. A beeping noise filled my ears.

The warm hand covering mine kept me from panicking.

“Hey.” Spencer’s eyes were puffy, and his dark bags sinked downwards.

“Is this a hospital?” I croaked out softly.

“Yes,” Spencer said. “You held on.”

“Where’s the team?”

“In the waiting room. Do you want to see them?”

I shook my head no. “My brain feels like it’s full of cotton balls... and my throat hurts.”

Spencer gave me a sad smile. “Just get some rest.”

“Is that because I was screaming so much?”

He didn’t answer.

“Answer me, Spencer.”

His eyes looked down at the floor. “Yeah... you were really scared when you first woke up.”

That’s when I remembered everything. “Please don’t leave.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.” Spencer gave me a weak smile.

That was a line from one of my favorite books. “You’re cute,” I mumbled as I closed my eyes and drifted off.

“You’re beautiful.”

---

The team came and saw me after I woke up again. Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, even Garcia flew in from Quantico. And of course Spencer. “Thank you... for saving me.”

“Don’t mention it. You’ve saved the day so many times you finally let us have a turn.” Rossi had a twinkle in his eyes that I could swear looked like tears.

Hotch cleared his throat. “You’re going to be on medical leave for a while, but the doctor said no lasting damage had been done.”

At least not physically. I could tell that’s what everyone was thinking. My eyes found Spencer’s.

“Um, we’ll leave you two alone.” Morgan said, and the team shuffled out, leaving me with Spencer.

“How long have I been here?” I asked.

“We found you yesterday, so you’ve been unconscious for about 24 hours.” He walked forward and stood by my bedside table.

“How bad is it?” I whispered.

He seemed reluctant to tell me. “YFN-“

“Tell me.”

He took a deep breath. “Four broken ribs, a collapsed lung, dozens of small wounds all over your body... and a deep stab wound to the stomach.”

“Did he-”

“No. He didn’t.”

I looked at Spencer with sad eyes. “But he tried to.”

We were quiet for a while, and Spencer sat at the edge of my bed.

“I trusted him.” I finally said. “I trusted him and he...” he killed three of my friends to get to me.

“It’s okay to cry.” Spencer said softly. But I couldn’t.

“Spencer,” I started. “I don’t think I’m going to be the same person I was going into this case.”

“I know. And I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

I closed my eyes. “I’m so tired...”

“Go to sleep. You’ve earned it.”

@itsarayofsunshine @thesailbells @squirrellover1967 @thesailbells @softpeteparker

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid

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sorry-i-spaced · 3 years

Text

Issues

Hawkeye is seen in the show as being a ladies man and quite the player. We know his mom died when he was just 10 and we know Caryle and Trapper both left without saying bye to Hawkeye. So I decided to play with the idea that he has abandonment and commitment issues because of this. I borrowed some of the dialogue from the episode “The More I see of You” in the beginning.

“If you’d gone into medicine with the same lack of conviction as marriage”

“Your work is always going to be the single most important thing in your life”

“Maybe you would have needed me a little more”

“Doug was able to commit”

“Commit”

Lack of conviction”

“Work….important...lack of conviction”

“Commit”

“Hawk? Hawkeye? Earth to Hawkeye! Anybody up there?” waved a concerned BJ.

“Huh? Oh,yeah, what?” shook Hawkeye as he came back to reality.

“Did you say something?” asked Hawkeye realizing he had zoned out big time.

“Yea, I was asking if you wanted to get dinner. I heard Igor was sick of all the grief we gave him so he made an upside down dinner in retaliation.”

Hawkeye sat there contemplating whether food was more important than wallowing in self pity for the way he let things get between Carlye and him.

“Nah, I think I’m just going to nap. We are supposed to get a heavy influx of wounded by dawn and I want to catch up on sleep.” And with that BJ got up to leave and Hawkeye laid down in his army issued mess of a cot and shut his eyes.

“Incoming wounded! All Medical and Surgical staff report for triage! Looks like it will a doozy” barked the PA system.

Opening his eyes Hawkeye threw his pillow in the direction of Beej.

“Get up” he yelled.

The red haired man rose (wait that’s not right Beej has blonde hair)

“Did you dye your hair and forget to tell me?” asked the raven haired man confused.

“Not that I’m aware of” called back the other man as he was putting on his shoes.

The two quickly ran out the door.

In triage Hawk got right to work.

“This one has a chest wound. Get some blood in him and get him prepped”

“This one can wait”

Hawkeye barked orders to the nurses. He got up and made a run for the O.R.

“Hawkeye! How goes it?” asked Klinger, who was running in the same direction as him.

Boom!

“Ahh!” yelped Klinger as he threw his head forcefully into the dirt.

Hawkeye stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the man. Cocking his head to the side he says, “ Klinger, a landmine went off. You’re fine. Get your head out of the dirt this instant. Anybody looking on would think you're bucking for a section 8 again. By reason of ostrich.

“I’m not acting sir” deadpanned Klinger as he lifted his head, shaking the dirt out of his hair.

Hawkeye blinked and shook his head. Klinger was right, he was an ostrich through and through.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“I’ve always been one sir. You just couldn’t tell since I spend so much of my time in dresses confident I can get out of the Army. But to be honest I’m scared as shit. Scared of dying and scared I won’t ever return to Toledo the same as I left.”

The two were now in the scrub room. Hawkeye was washing up.

“So Beej dyes his hair and forgets to tell me and you're an ostrich?What else will happen today.”

“Beej didn’t dye his hair. He is a robin.”

“A robin? As in the bird?” questioned Hawkeye as he patted his hands dry.

“He is a songbird. Yes. If you don’t believe me just look at him yourself.”

The two had somehow ended up in the O.R and Hawkeye was at a table picking apart peacock feathers. Hawkeye looked up and to his surprise Beej was in fact a big fat plump red robin - complete with wings and a beak.

Looking at Klinger Hawkeye was left to wonder, “why?”

“He left his baby girl very early on in her life.”

Again Hawkeye had moved from the O.R back into the scrub room. These abrupt scene changes were getting awfully annoying.

“We all left family to be dragged to this God Forsaken Hell Hole. Why should he be so special.”

“Well for much of the same reason that I’m scared he feels guilty about leaving during such a crucial part of his little girl's life.”

“My mom left me early on in life, I turned out fine.” Hawkeye spat back.

Hawkeye who realized he was sitting on the bench leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. Pursing his lips together he began to ask more questions trying not to dwell on the fact his mom left him.

“So Beej is guilty and you're scared. Is there anyone else I should know about?”

Silence. Klinger was trying to figure out what to say. This was all coming out too fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His job was to help propel the story along and these observations were supposed to happen naturally. Well as naturally as having birds operate on patients who just see the shell of the person not the bird. But no this man was too smart for even his unconsciousness. Finally he began to speak, slowly hoping he wouldn’t reveal too much.

“Our fearless leader Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his talents. He is a career man - as I’m sure you’re aware of. But he lacks the knowledge of all these fancy techniques you young doctors seem to pick up so easily. Margaret is a puffin because all she wants to do is be accepted by everyone. Frank is a hummingbird because he is annoying as all shit and is very insecure due to it. Oh and you’re a peacock.”

That got Pierce to shoot up like a bean pole.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to tell me why I’m a peacock?” his voice raised and wavered a bit.

“Sorry sir, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own.

“What why? Klinger, you gotta tell me! Come on we know everyone else’s insecurities, why can’t I know my own?”

Klinger didn’t know how to respond. He knew he had 3 sets of 10 minutes and 1 set of an hour of time to try and get Hawkeye to learn why he is a peacock. But he also knew it was up to his subconscious to interact with his unconscious to help move the narrative.

“Ow!” yelped Hawkeye breaking the silence.

“What the hell was that?”

Not even Klinger had an explanation.

All of sudden a flying pillow came out of nowhere.

Klinger now understood what was happening. Someone was trying to wake Hawkeye. There little mental party would be ending soon.

“Hawk” echoed a ghostly sound.

“Why are you calling me a Hawk, I thought you said I was a peac-”

His eyes shot open! Looking down at him were a pair of blue eyes. Beej

“What? What happened?” Hawkeye asked as he began to get up.

“Wounded” called Beej as he put on his converse.

“Suction! So yea, don’t know what any of that means but thought I’d share my dream with the rest of the class,” said Pierce as he tried to stop a bleeder his patient had come in with.

“That’s scary accurate. Especially my fear. How did you pin us all down like that?” called BJ concentrating on his own bleeder.

“Pierce, are you good with birds? Seems like you pinned us to an appropriate matching bird” called Potter.

Hawkeye was now working on closing up the patient, “I’ve gone bird watching with my dad back in Maine. One time when I was a kid, right when mom died, he decided to get his mind off her death he was going to do a Big Year. I would come along on bird watching expeditions during school breaks and weekends. But I still would like to know why I’m a peacock. Of all the birds to be.” called Hawkeye.

“If it bugs you that much, why don’t you ask Sidney the next time he comes up for Poker.” said BJ when they were back in the Swamp.

They were finally out of surgery and the two swamp rats were playing tennis with a blown up surgical glove they took from the scrub room.

A week later, before Poker was supposed to take place, Sidney was set up in the VIP tent chatting with Hawkeye.

“So you dreamt about everyone’s fears personifying and taking the form of birds? What do you think it means?” lead the Psychiatrist.

“I don’t know Sidney, you tell me, you’re the expert on these types of things.” pleaded Hawkeye, who had taken up pacing around the tent.

“Hawk, I want you to get to that conclusion yourself. It won’t be helpful if I do it for you.”

Hawkeye stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to hear. I want to be as helpful as possible. In my dream Klinger said basically the same thing.”

“Humor me and tell me about your childhood, that’s always a good place to start when talking about fears and issues,” claimed Sidney.

“My childhood. What do you wanna know” asked Hawkeye.

“How was your relationship with your mom?”

“Nonexistent. I’ve told you before she died when I was 10. Just been dad and I since then.” replied Hawkeye flatley.

“Do you have any resentment towards her dying?” pried Sidney.

“You know dad didn’t even tell me she was sick? He waited until she passed to come clean and tell me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I was angry for years. At her for getting sick and at dad for not having the decency to tell me she was sick. But I got over it. No hard feelings”

Rambled Hawk.

“Ok, so issues from mom, how about dad?”

“Dad? Oh he was great! After mom died we became thick as thieves. He was the one who inspired me to go into medicine. He wasn’t too happy about it to be honest.” gleaned Hawk.

“I remember you telling me last time I was here that there was a nurse here that you had an old fling with. How did that end?”

“Caryle. I really don’t know what happened. We were living together during residency you know.”

Raising an eyebrow Sidney interjected, “ So you guys were serious?”

“That’s what I thought.” continued Hawkeye. “But just like mom and just like Trapper did 6 months ago, she up and left. I didn’t get to say bye or anything. She just one day decided she had enough of me, packed her bags and was out of the apartment before I even had time to get home and try and stop her. I thought Trapper would have at least left something. But I guess not. I guess I’m just not worth the hassle to say bye too. God. Why did dad not let me tell mom bye. Her own son was in the dark. I get Caryle and Trapper. It was bound to happen. Unhappy relationship and discharge but God, mom? Really? I hated her for it you know. I just wish once someone would leave and tell me about it first. Why do I always have to be the last to know. I bet the thing I got going on with Beej will end just as abruptly as it did with Trapper.” rambled on Hawkeye.

“Hawkeye, stop a minute, let’s process all that you said.” steered Sidney realizing he was losing his patient rapidly.

Hawkeye shut up and listened.

“You mention over and over that you never got to say goodbye to all these people. You also mention being the last to hear of relationships ending.”

“Yea, so?” sighed Hawkeye.

“Let’s go back to the dream. In the dream you describe each of your friends as birds relating to their fears and issues. Beej - your best friend is a robin because he is guilty for leaving his baby girl. Klinger is an ostrich - which I never would have pegged him as so thank you for that lovely image - because he is scared and fearful he won’t return home and if he does he will be completely different. Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his abilities despite being a career man in the army. Margaret is a Puffin because she has the fear that she will never fit in anywhere so she forces herself to. And Frank is a hummingbird because he is insecure in his own way and -”

“ - a peacock for commitment issues” finished Hawkeye.

“Precisely. It seems like you are scared to trust people because everyone seems to leave you at some point. Starting way back when your mom left you abruptly. Oh also in my own professional diagnosis I would also tack on abandonment issues” added Sidney.

“What gives Sid, I thought you were going to let me come to the conclusion on my own accord.” whimpered Hawkeye.

“Eh, I see how hard you’re trying to figure this all out, so I decided to give you a freebie” laughed Sidney.

“Well in true Freud fashion, my issues really do stem from my mother,” laughed Hawkeye sadly.

The two sat for another hour trying to brainstorm ways Hawkeye could push past these thoughts of abandonment and commitment issues and how he could overcome them.

The End!

#mash #fanfic #birds #freud #hawkeye pierce #klinger #sidney freedman #fears #issues

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 48 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don't post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so...yeah.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

As expected, no sooner was it announced that Laufey would not die as king, there was a multitude of reactions, not all positive. Many saw it as merely making official what had been occurring for some time. Loki had been the one to deal with the majority of court matters, so it made sense for him to simply rise to the task officially. Others felt it went against tradition, and that was not something they could accept. Ella heard the word tradition so many times, it stopped being more than sounds after a while. She commented into Loki’s ear something that made him chuckle causing the room to focus on him.

“Does something amuse you, Prince Loki?” Igor was a cantankerous old Jotunn at the best of times but the flaunting of such a tradition irked him all the more.

“Yes, actually it does. My mate made a funny comment on this matter.” He answered honestly.

“And what did she say that has you seeing fit to laugh at me?” The Jotnar glared at Ella, who smirked back.

Loki looked down at her, still smiling himself and asked her silently which of them would answer, seeing her smirk grow slightly, he looked forward again to see Igor’s reaction as her statement became known.

“I stated that tradition when used simply to continue impractical practices, is merely aggressive guilt into coercion via the deceased.” Her words were clear and concise.

“I think it an accurate yet amusing statement, don’t you?” Loki chuckled to Igor.

“Coming from an Aesir, whose traditions are beyond rigid and deemed of importance…”

“I do not recall bringing any such traditions with me, have I? And do you not think that if such a statement were to be true, then surely I would be the best placed to say such with validity, no?” Ella asked, her voice calm and light.

Igor silenced, knowing there was no adequate response to such a statement. It was becoming increasingly clear to the court and all those in it that Loki’s mate was not some mindless silent demure Aesir princess with no opinions or mind to voice them but an able wordsmith who tied up far better speakers and minds than him so he silenced rather than make a fool of himself.

“Whether or not the court agrees, it is occurring, I am too old, too weak. The realm needs a fresh face and mind as we welcome in our new era of prosperity,” Laufey declared. “So this coming full moon, my son will take my place on the throne.”

Both Loki and Ella were slightly startled by that statement, neither had expected it to be so soon. Loki because he did not think he would have so little time to mentally prepare, while Ella wondered how the realm would prepare for such an occasion in so little time. She was unsure how they would do so.

Her first decision was to send a seidr message to her mother. They conversed at length regarding the matter. She altered her appearance so that her mother could not tell she was carrying a child. Though Frigga disliked the cold of Jotunheim, even with her seidr, she immediately began readying for the journey there. Ella felt as though it would be best to tell her parents face to face about her impending parenthood so she said nothing of the matter. She knew they would come for such an event, not only because of her father’s role as Allfather but as a manner of publicly showing support for the marriage he placed his daughter in.

When she had finished speaking with her mother, she paced slightly, something she often did when anxious and this caused her to feel incredibly so. She never tried to show her concerns, she learnt from a young age to never let anyone see her in such a manner. Frigga and Odin were masters of such also, never letting anyone see you fret or worry but as easy as it had become to mask such expressions outside, they still turmoiled within her. She toyed with her hands also, something her father long noted she had inherited from her mother, his comments to his wife to cease it before one of their children picked up the habit long being joined by ones to Ella to cease also.

“What are you doing?”

The sound of another joining her caused Ella to yelp slightly and turn around. Seeing Loki looking at her curiously, she shook her head. “What?”

“I asked what are you doing?”

“Doing?”

“You are like a caged beast, pacing and all but frantic, looking to escape. You also yelped in shock, nothing seems to sneak up on you.”

“I’m not…”

“You are. Is something the matter?”

“Of course n...” He raised a brow. Ella sighed, remembering her promise to remain honest, regardless of anything else. “I informed my parents informally about what is occurring. I know that they will be given the news officially in the near future but…”

“How did you do that?” Loki had not heard the Bifrost blast through the quiet realm.

“I explained that in the throne room before, via seidr.” She explained. “I use mine, my mother uses hers and the Bifrost guardian, Heimdall, makes it so we can connect them, even through the realms.”

“So the Guardian can hear what you speak of?”

“Heimdall sees everything, there is little point in trying to hide from him.”

“Then why did he not tell the Allfather about when you were ill?” Loki asked, wondering why the guardian had not alerted anyone on either realm as to Ella’s condition.

“I did not let him see me, what he saw was what I wished for him to see, I suspect he was able to see me when I fell unconscious, I don’t know, I never asked him.”

“But you said…” Loki ceased speaking as soon as he noted the ever so slight smirk on Ella’s face. “I give up.” He raised his hands like one that was defeated causing Ella to look at him curiously. “You...you come across as this outwardly perfectly unassuming, dare I say it, boring princess who does nothing untoward. When you came here I genuinely thought you to be an idiot or dim at the very least, truly I did. I thought you to be someone who could not fathom ever even considering breaking the rules but instead, you are tricking the All-Seeing Guardian, even when you do nothing of note.”

“I do not like the idea of someone watching me all the time. How was I supposed to sneak out of the palace if I could be reported to my father?”

“You...” Loki shook his head again. “Of course, you did. I have a miscreant for a mate. That child will do nothing but guarantee I am balder than any Jotnar of full blood with the stress of his actions,” Loki growled.

Ella found herself snorting slightly at his exasperation. “If you must know, I have something of a reputation as a trickster on my old realm. My parents used to get very irked.”

“I do not doubt it.” Ella grinned at him causing him to shake his head slightly. “I fear what sort of terror we have put in you.” Loki eyed her stomach warily causing Ella to laugh.

“You had begun to realise who I am before you willingly did that.”

“First and foremost, you did not tell me how great a delinquent you were in advance,” He pointed out. “Secondly, I alone did not create the situation by which you came to carry our son, you were very much an active part of the process.” Ella beamed proudly at him. “You are not the same creature brought here to be my mate,” He declared. “You sent a copy, didn’t you? Then you wandered along when you felt like it and released your true self on the realm.”

Ella shook her head slightly as she chuckled. “No, that genuinely was me, just recall that you did not wish to speak with me and I could not simply walk up to the Jotnar that clearly loathed me beyond words and introduce myself as the Trickster Princess, could I?”

“It would have been interesting if you had.”

Ella laughed slightly before her face turned into a frown and she placed a hand to her side.

Loki immediately ceased his jestful behaviour and rushed over to her worriedly. “Are you alright?”

Ella took his hand and placed it to where she had her own a moment before.

Loki had been expecting perhaps to feel the child move, he was not prepared firstly for her touch to be colder than his but also to feel a slight pulse of something go through his hand. “What is that?”

“He is unconsciously using his seidr.”

“What?”

“I think he thinks me to be too warm and his seidr is attempting to cool his environs to something more to his liking.” She frowned as she looked down before her own seidr glowed slightly. “That should keep him satisfied for now.” She paused for a moment, waiting to see if there would be any other form of reaction from within her but there was nothing more, satisfied, she gave a nod.

Loki’s had yet to remove his hand from her stomach. He had been about to do so when he felt a little nudge against it. He chuckled slightly. “What have we created? He has your demeanour.”

“Then we can rest assured that Jotunheim will have two great kings to come, starting on the next full moon.” Ella looked him in the eye as she spoke, hoping to convey her sincerity as she did so. Loki swallowed. “Why in the realms are you nervous? You were made for this.”

“I do not wish to leave him down. To not be everything everyone expects. What if I fail?”

“Loki, you are an incredible being. You will be a truly great king and will not repeat our fathers’ mistakes. Your reign will be a glorious one. You are benevolent and fair and Jotunheim will prosper like never before under your rule.” She held her hands against his face, forcing him to look at her. “You will not fail.” She stated. “And if you are at risk of it, I will be there to make sure you do not. I’ll keep you on the path.” He chuckled slightly leaning down to have their noses touch as he had them do before, his eyes closed and a content sigh as he did so, his hand still on her stomach where his son moved. Ella, since the last time he had done so, had come to learn from Greta that it was the closest form of Jotnar contact to a loving embrace. Hearing that had caused her to question why Loki would do such a thing with her. She came to the conclusion that the relief in the coming of an heir had made him do it, with this second time, she was not so certain.

#loki #others #submission #imagine #wolfpawn #chapter 48 #Pride and Prejudice

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yusuke-of-valla · 4 years

Text

like rats fleeing a sinking ship, pt 6.

intermission ii

<-Previous Next->

AO3

“What the hell.” Akechi is the only one to speak as everyone staying in Takemi’s apartment stares at the TV and the news of Sae’s arrest. “What the actual hell, Sae?” Akechi runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing. “How could you get arrested? How.”

“Makoto’s here.” Akira mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

“We need to deal with Shido. Tomorrow.” Akechi says.

“Akechi, how many times do we have to tell you. We can’t be hasty,” Morgana snaps.

“We don’t have any more time to stall.”

“We have to find Makoto first, at least.” Akira insists. Akechi scowls and Akira rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, if Sae got captured then Makoto’s hear, and our time limit just got that much shorter, we’ll need as many healers as we can if we’re going to finish the whole thing.”

Akechi grumbles. “Fine. Fine, but that’s it. Then I’m going in without you because you’re clearly no use otherwise.”

Akira sticks out his hand “Deal.”

Akechi takes it firmly.

Tae’s apartment only has one bedroom, but she’s let Akira use an air mattress and given the Akechi the couch to sleep on, not that either of them really sleep that night.

Akira stares at the ceiling, thoughts swirling around in his head. Where could the others be? It’s been about a week since Shido called for their heads, and he hasn’t heard anything from half of his friends. He should be able to protect them.

His thoughts drift around some more, though they keep returning to the sinking feeling that he’s failed as leader for not being prepared for this, until Akira doesn’t so much fall asleep as feel his consciousness be ripped away from him.

With a gasp, Akira sits up on a familiar blue cot, with his wrists shackled.

“Trickster.” There’s something... off, about Igor’s tone. Caroline and Justine look more serious than usual too.

“Look, unless you’re here to tell me that you know where my friends are, I don’t care.”

“This is very serious, Trickster. Ruin is approaching faster than expected.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Show some respect, inmate!” Caroline shouts, slamming her baton against the bars.

“Our master is trying to assist you.” Justine says.

“You seriously can’t fail! You already messed up letting this Shido guy get the upper hand on you.” Caroline says.

“Our master personally contacted you to make sure you’re aware of the circumstances.” Justine adds, and Akira realizes that she’s nervous. Her eyes keep flitting to Igor, and Akira takes a good look at him.

His air of perpetual smug confidence is gone.

Igor is scared.

“This is different from the other ‘Ruin’ I’m supposed to be avoiding, isn’t it?”

“This was not supposed to happen. An unfortunate miscalculation, but you must understand the gravity of this situation. Ruin may befall us all if you allow your current opponent to go unchecked.”

“Alright. I won’t fail any of you. I promise.”

Just before Akira feels himself wake up, he smells the faintest scent of seawater.

“Akira, come on!” Morgana is patting his paws against Akira’s face to wake him up, and Akira slowly shoves him off.

He checks the time on Tae’s oven and realizes it’s almost time for them to meet the others. Akira gets up quickly and throws on a hoodie and jeans, then grabs his bag as Morgana jumps in and runs past Akechi, who’s been standing by the door the whole time.

They meet in front of Takemi Clinic, and the knot in Akira’s chest loosens up a little when he sees Ann.

Ann’s face lights up when she sees him, and they hug.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Akira says.

“Same to you.”

“Good to see you again, Akira.” Shiho says.

“Yeah, you too.”

“So, what’s the plan,” Ann asks. “We saw the news last night.”

“We’re going into Shido’s Palace tomorrow.” Haru’s eyes widen and Akira shoots her an apologetic look. “I know we said we’d take a couple more days to look for the others, but with Sojiro and Sae going on trial, we don’t have time.”

“The plan for today is to start preparations,” Morgana says.

“But that doesn’t mean we’re giving up on looking for the others,” Akira adds, giving Haru an reassuring look.

Shiho nods. “I know Ann and I are going to go to Ryuji’s house and try to talk to his mom.”

“Right,” Morgana says, “we also need you to pick up some crafting supplies so we can make tools tonight.”

“I have no clue what you just said, Morgana,” Shiho says, “but I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll try and ask around for Makoto,” Haru offers.

“Can you stop by the church in Kanda too? I want you to ask Hifumi Togo if she knows anything about Yusuke.”

“Absolutely.”

“And while you’re walking around, maybe hit up some vending machines for energy drinks. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

“Sure. And you?”

“We’re going to Kichijoji to talk to that friend I mentioned before.”

“Alright.”

“We’ll meet back at Tae’s apartment tonight, and then we meet in front of the Diet Building and secure the route to Shido’s treasure, for better or worse.”

Ann, Shiho, and Haru all nod, and as brief as their reunion was, they split up again.

Akechi is silent for the ride to Kichijoji station, but once they arrive at the promenade he speaks up.

“I thought we weren’t worrying about Kitagawa.”

Akira stops. Then he grabs Akechi’s arm and pulls him into an alleyway. “Morgana, can you go on ahead, I’m going to talk to Akechi.”

Morgana leaps out of Akira’s bag and shoots him a concerned look before heading off.

Akira turns to Akechi, dead serious. “Look, I get it. You want to get back at Shido, or whatever. But we’re going tomorrow, just like you want. So can you stop complaining for five minutes?”

“I’m trying to give you perspective. If you’re distracted, he’ll kill you without hesitation.”

“I don’t think we’ll run into Shido’s shadow-”

“I wasn’t talking about Shido. I’m talking about Shido’s cognition of myself,” Akechi says, “who’s responsible for this.” He points to the wound at his side. “I suspected you were messing around in Shido’s Palace and went to confront you. Instead I found that thing that Shido thinks I am.” Akechi’s nose scrunches up in disgust and he bangs his fist against the wall beside him. “A damn puppet who’ll do anything for him. And who unfortunately is powerful enough that even going all out, I barely escaped with my life and arrived at your doorstep.”

“That’s how you knew Shido was about to put out the arrest.”

“Yes.”

“What did you even get from working with him?”

Akechi takes a deep breath. “He’s my father, and I wanted revenge. It was because he abandoned my mother that she killed herself and I was thrown into the foster system. Moving from home to home, completely unwanted. Until I awakened to my Persona. Suddenly I had powers unlike anyone else. I was special. So I made a plan. I approached Shido and offered him my services. I spent countless nights dreaming of the pure satisfaction of the moment when he won, when he was at his highest. And then I, the son he threw away, would force him to admit that he could only achieve his goals with my help, force him to acknowledge me, and then I’d cut him down.”

Akechi’s hands are shaking.

“So that is why I can’t afford to have you hesitate. It seems he would never acknowledge me as the reason for his success, since he thinks I’m some mindless weapon that he always intended to throw in the trash.”

“If he had a change of heart he’d acknowledge you,” Akira says after a moment. “He’d even apologize. Sincerely.”

Akechi snorts. “Yes well, I wasn’t aware of that option at the time. Maybe if I’d met you sooner, things could have been different.”

They fall silent again. Akira sighs. “Look. It seems like we both underestimated Shido. You thought you’d earned his respect, we thought we’d avoided his suspicion. We were both wrong. But the reason he wants to get rid of us so badly is because somewhere, deep down, he’s scared. Even the smallest threat to his power has to be stamped out, even if it’s a random teenager who stopped him from harassing some woman.”

Akechi’s eyes widen. “Wait, that was Shido?”

“Yeah. Your dad sucks. But he’s also a rattlesnake, trying to appear bigger than he is because he’s cornered and scared. We have a chance to beat him, but only if we work together. And we can’t work together if you’re constantly complaining about how I’m not doing things on your timetable. As much as we both want Shido out of the picture, we’re not the ones he’s hunting right now, so you’re going to sit back and let me worry about my friends.”

“You truly don’t give up on anyone, do you?” Akechi asks, tilting his head. “No wonder they adore you. Very well, I’ll refrain from any commentary for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you.”

“Senpai! Akechi-kun!” The two young men turn around to see Kasumi Yoshizawa running towards them, Morgana in her arms, who she lets jump to the ground to throw her arms around Akira. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I’ve been so worried but I had no clue how to get in touch with you.”

“Good to see you too, Kasumi,” Akira says with a smile.

Akechi looks between them. “Yoshizawa-san? You understand Morgana?”

“Yep,” Morgana says, “she’s a Persona user, but not a Phantom Thief. She’s still pretty new to it, but she’s strong.”

Kasumi nods. “Yes, although I’d like to change that middle part. Senpai, please let me accompany you on your current heist. You’re targeting Representative Shido, right?”

“Well, at least you pick up on things quickly.” Akechi says.

“It’ll be really dangerous, Kasumi.” Akira warns. “I mean, you’ve probably seen the news, we’re not in the best position right now.”

“I know the risks. I can’t turn my back on someone who needs my help though. So, please let me join you! Or actually-” Kasumi stands up straight and looks Akira in the eye. “I’m not asking. I am joining you on your next heist.”

Akechi nods. “Alright then. Welcome aboard.”

#alto writes #on the run au #akira kurusu #goro akechi #wordcount: 1500-2000

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the--blackdahlia · 4 years

Text

So Long Old Buddy

Title: So Long Old Buddy

Summary: Hawkeye gets a package from Boston.

Warnings: It’s kinda a tearjerker guys

AN: In the MASH Matters podcast, a writer for the show talks about how he trolled the writers for Trapper John MD by saying he was going to write an episode of Hawkeye going to pieces learnings of the death of his old friend Trapper. Well, here you go!

“Nothing like a quiet day to enjoy the three m’s,” Hawkeye said as he lounged on his cot. BJ looked over from his own, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, and what exactly are the three m’s?”

“Martinis, mellow atmosphere and...more martinis.”

“All the things in life you need.” BJ laughed.

“Right!” Hawkeye laughed. BJ shook his head as Radar came in, mail bag over his shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Radar. Come to partake in our mellow atmosphere?”

“I don’t think he can do the two m’s.” BJ commented.

“What?” Radar asked, confused. “Is it because I’m short?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Hawkeye laughed. “Got anything good for us?”

“Letters for Captain Hunnicutt,” Radar handed him his letters, which he quickly drove into. “A letter from your dad Hawkeye, and a package from Boston.”

“Boston?” Hawkeye asked. “I think I once knew a girl from Boston.”

“Was she related to the man from Nantucket?” BJ asked without looking up from his letter.

“Oh god I hope so,” Hawkeye smirked.

“What?” Radar asked.

“I’ll explain when you’re older.” Hawkeye laughed, to which Radar glared and marched out. Hawkeye laid the letter from his dad to the side and looked at the brown wrapped package. It was addressed to him. He wasn’t sure who it could be from, until he saw the return address in the corner.

The McIntyre’s.

“Ah ha!” Hawkeye laughed. “Oh, that old son of a bitch!”

“What? Who?” BJ asked.

“Trapper! This package is from him!” HAwkeye said excitedly. “God, what could it be? Knowing him, he probably stuffed it full of paper and put a chocolate bar in it or something.” BJ just laughed as Hawkeye tore into the box.

There was brown paper in it, and on top of it was a letter in an envelope. Hawkeye took the envelope and opened it.

Captain Pierce,

You probably don’t really know me outside of stories that John has told you. And who knows what kind of things he said then. My name is Louise McIntyre, and I’m John’s wife. I wasn’t sure how to best tell you this, so I just thought I’d write you a letter, because I’m not sure if I could find it in myself to utter the words.

John was in Chicago for a job interview. A very nice position at a hospital in the heart of the city. Becky, Kathy, and our son JT were there with him. He had gone to the hospital while myself and the kids went to have a day in the city. John never came back. He was hit by an impaired driver when he went to go at a stop light. The driver hit his side of the car, trapping him inside. John only survived about twelve hours afterwards. I’m sorry I have to tell you. I really wish I didn’t have to. I sent you a few things of John’s that I thought you would want. I don’t expect a letter back.

All the best,

Louise McIntyre

Hawkeye let the letter slip from his hands as he stared forward. BJ noticed a change in the tent and looked up from his own letter, a frown on his face when he saw Hawkeye’s face.

“Hawk?” He asked. “You okay?”

“T-Trapper…”

“What?”

“Trapper’s dead.” Hawkeye finally said it. He didn’t think he’d be able to, but he did. “Oh god.”

“Oh man.” BJ moved to sit by him. “What happened?”

“Car accident in Chicago.” Hawkeye whispered. “He got hit.” BJ nodded and moved the box so he could properly sit on Hawkeye’s cot.

“That big of a box for a death letter?” BJ asked. Hawkeye snapped out of his daze and took the box, pulling back the brown paper to look inside. There wasn’t much in there. Trapper’s pair of glasses with the fake nose were in there, which made Hawkeye laugh.

“I got us each a pair of these from a little booth in Seoul,” Hawkeye smiled fondly, even though BJ could see the tears in his eyes. “These came in handy during many pranks.” Hawkeye paused for a moment. “He wore these for a whole day when Tommy Gillis died on my table.”

“Who’s Tommy Gillis?”

“My childhood best friend.” Hawkeye closed his eyes for a second before setting the glasses back in the box and pulling out the next item. A single dog tag. “John F. X. McIntrye.” BJ watched as Hawkeye ran his thumb over the cool metal before laying it back in the box. Just a few things remained, most of them pictures. They were things that Trapper took back with him to remember Hawkeye by. Pictures of the two of them smiling, laughing, annoying Frank, and other things. BJ watched as Hawkeye started to laugh and told him stories behind the pictures. The way he told everything made BJ feel like he had been there, like he knew Trapper as well.

Finally, as Hawkeye was about to put the pictures back in the box, he saw an envelope. He was addressed to him, with Trapper’s name and return address on it, with no stamp. Pulling it out, he opened it, almost dreading what it said.

Hey Hawkeye,

I bet you’re still wondering why I didn’t leave a letter behind or anything. I tried, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t want it to feel like I was saying goodbye, because when you get home, I’m coming to Crabapple Cove and dragging you to a football game. I know how much you like those. But there will be beer, and hey, you could bring some of that good stuff back in the thermos I left behind.

I’ve been sitting here in this office for a little bit, not sure what to write. Louise and I had a little boy nine months after I got back home. He’s named after his old man, so I guess he’s going to be the best looking kid in his school. Also, the girls say hi. They saw a picture of us that I have sitting in my office. I think Becky has a crush on you. Her cheeks get all pink and she runs off. They’re growing up so fast. I can’t wait for you to meet them.

I hope you don’t mind, but I went over to Crabapple Cove and met your dad. We had lunch, and he seemed to enjoy the stories I told him. Don’t worry, I kept the really scandalous ones away from him. Don’t want him thinking I’m a bad influence or something. He’s really a cool cat, but you knew that already, because he is your dad after all. He said he’s proud of you, he misses you, and his lobster bisque just doesn’t taste the same without you.

Anyway, I need to be going. We’re going to pick up a new car here soon. Louise wanted a Ford, I wanted a Chevy, so we compromised and got a Ford. Anyway, I’ll be seeing you when you get back to the world. Don’t be surprised if I kiss you in the airport.

So long old buddy,

Trapper

And that’s when it hit. The tears were heavy down Hawkeye’s face. Fat tears full of pain. He was supposed to be safe over there. There wasn’t a war going on three miles from where he slept. He was supposed to watch his kids grow up. He was supposed to lose those curls due to old age.

He was supposed to take Hawkeye to a football game to drink beer and pretend they had met someplace, anyplace else.

But instead, all Hawkeye could do was cry.

****

A week later, Radar had music playing over the PA as Hawkeye sat in his chair, reading a book. It was a beautiful day outside, and some of the guys were playing a game. BJ opened the door to the Swamp.

“Come on Hawk. I need some more muscle on my team.”

“I thought you had Margaret.” Hawkeye mumbled, not looking up.

“Yeah, well she got mad at me and defected to Igor’s side. Come on.” BJ sighed. “I’ll do your laundry next week if we win.”

“Now you’re talking.” Hawkeye shut his book and got up as Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again” played over the PA. With his lucky Hawaiian shirt on, Hawkeye grabbed his favorite hat from his cot, smiling for a moment at the framed picture of him and Trapper, before he followed BJ out.

#mash #fanfiction #trapper john #hawkeye #hawkeye pierce #trapper john mcintyre #4077 #alan alda #wayne rogers

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claude-frollo-archives · 4 years

Text

Imposed Fate

Imposed Fate A Count Duckula Story

Chapter 1. Prelude of a Nightmare

One fateful date, Tuesday 7 April 1870, Richter Von Gosling, a student of the arts of healing, decided to visit Transylvania in order to shed light upon a mysterious and disquieting subject, which was a case of vampirism. Legends and stories about the undead had the young scholar read before, yet he remained sceptical, until his colleague and confidant Reinfelt witnessed an attack by one of those creatures, and not an ordinary one but Count Duckula himself, a feudal Lord supposed to be dead centuries ago. Despite of the absurdity of the notion, Richter was not to doubt his friend; therefore, he had to investigate in more detail about this terrible menace and put it to rest.

The evening of Gosling's arrival, a thunderstorm loomed above the village, the weather cold and windy but rain was not to fall yet. Not a soul could be found wandering on the streets, there was a sense of quietude, a preface of the storm that soon would be unleashed over the town. Despite the feeling of impeding peril, inside the public house 'Ye Tooth and the Jugular' the mood appeared to be festive, with the regular crowd assembled for a pint or two, regardless the tragedies of life. In this place, the scholar found refuge as well as some more information concerning the malevolent aristocrat provided by the innkeeper and the parishioners. Gosling thought the recently gained knowledge would be enough to prepare a scheme to destroy the vampire.

During the following days, the scientist worked in the development of a mechanism designed to shoot a wooden stake but cleverly set inside a camera. When the contraption was completed, the gander headed towards Castle Duckula, an ominous fortress that oversaw the village from atop a hill. Presenting himself as a photographer from a newspaper, Gosling attempted to gain access to the castle and destroy the Count; these actions would end the suffering of the villagers and bring peace to Transylvania. No time was wasted once he entered the Castle. Introductions were quick, the battle between Count Duckula and Von Gosling finished as quickly as it started and not even Igor -faithful manservant of the undead Count- was able to interfere. However, due the thrilling sensation of triumph, the scientist returned to the town without realizing that the stake managed to harm Duckula, but it failed to stab through the Count's heart.

"Got him, the vampire is destroyed! ..." Exclaimed the deluded scholar as he rushed his way back to the village bellow, eager to tell what he assumed to be good news. "... The beast is no more!"

Meanwhile, the Count lied motionless on the stone ground. Igor knelt beside his defeated master, lifting the wounded vampire on both his arms. "... Master, Master! ..." The old vulture sobbed in anguish, fearing this to be the last hour.

"... Is all right, Igor! …" Duckula replied as he rose to his feet, dusting and straightening his suit jacket. Praised the Abyss, his Lordship was not slaughter, much to Igor's relief. "It was just a mere scratch …" The Count added with anger on his raspy voice. "... But he shall pay for this ... he shall pay!" He growled and proceeded to concentrate his energy in order to cast a spell. "... Come here, to my aid, oh winds of north, I summon your powers---…"

"Milord... if I may be so bold to provide advice... I must remind his Lordship that the appropriate way to conjure for the assistance of this element, Sire, would be quite simpler: ‘come gust of wind and be wild’… Brief but no less effective, of course" Igor admonished his Master on the proper casting of dark incantations.

"Thank you Igor, I had almost failed to remember that part … Anyway, you had already cast the spell, so you have heard it wind, obey our demand and be wild!" With that, the Count cackled with cruel glee, an aura appeared to surround his frame and a red spark was ignited on both his eyes, like flames of fire as he began to transform, while outside the fortress, gust of heavy wind gathered to form a dreadful tempest.

Oblivious of the dangers ahead, Gosling stormed into the tavern. "… Is done!--- The vampire--- destroyed! ..." The gander addressed the landlord, though he was out of breath and could barely articulate a word.

"What do you mean, young man?" The perplexed innkeeper questioned, while three peasants seated on a corner enjoying their last drink of the night, just had to listen and stare with curiosity.

"… ... What I am trying to say is that the vampire fiend is no more!---..." Gosling recomposed before resuming his speech in a serious tone. "... The Count now rests in peace, finally there would be no more suffering ... is over." He softly stated, honestly believing that evil was successfully vanquished.

A tense silence filled the inn until one of the peasants reacted. "... That is impossible!" He muttered in disbelief. "… Count Duckula defeated, requiring no effort?!" Added the landlord in dismay. "Yes, on the times past, I know the tale, the vampire was destroyed... but he was cornered by a group of vampire slayers! When we talked about the Count, I never thought you would attempt something so stupid, what have you done, lad?!"

Gosling was completely appalled, realising something must have gone wrong and to learn that the Count was previously overcame, then who was this Duckula he had just met?! However, before the scholar was able to find his voice, the farmer seated near the window screamed in fear. "He is leaving the Castle! ..." Every fowl residing at the hostelry turned to the window. They saw the rainstorm and a giant bat flying from the castle in direction of the village. In matter of few minutes, chaos settled on the town: the wind destroyed some of the houses, demolishing the roofs of the buildings. Duckula on his bat form attacked people running outside in a futile attempt to seek shelter from the storm; others tried to escape the wooden debris carried by the whirlwind, people cried in panic, the peaceful slumber of the village residents turned into a nightmare.

"Where are you, my dear Gosling?! Not so brave to defeat me?! ..." The evil laugh from the Count could be heard amid the commotion. "... Come, come out to play, do not make me wait!"

"I am afraid he is calling for you!" Exclaimed the innkeeper’s wife who stood on top of the staircase, from there she threw Gosling’s luggage; the two suitcases landed loudly at his feet. "If you have any respect for anything sacred, get out of my house! ..." She ordered furiously, pointing to the main door of the hostel. "... Away with you!"

"Wait, please!--- I don't understand! …" Gosling stammered. "My intentions were honourable; I was only trying to be of aid!”

"Yeah, thank you for your help, you just made everything worse for our village!" Retorted an angry peasant. "Why did you have to mess with the Count?! Now his wrath is unstoppable, he would go on rampage until sunrise and is all your fault!"

"I did try to do something, while you appear to accept this fate without resistance, why you don't fight back? For what reason you would even stay in a place like this?!" Although the scientist's response came out with a hint of defiance, in truth there was guilt within his heart.

"Because this is our home, foolish lad! …" Replied the proprietress without hesitation. "We shall not abandon our land! If someone has to leave, that would be you!”

"Very well said, Madam! Now you, go away!" A peasant urged Gosling to walk out the inn. "Hope he eats you, better you than us!"

"Came on folks…" The landlord interceded. "… Don’t be cruel with the outsider, he couldn't know any better, after all he is only a boy."

"… Oh nein, I am not! I will show you, I … I shall stop that fiend at once!"

"No, if you go out he will kill you!---..." The innkeeper warned but he was unheard. Von Gosling stepped out the tavern and the sight of destruction and the monstrous vampire bat, rendered him to freeze in fright. However, the landlord had followed him and he placed the travel cases on Gosling's hands. "Come on, son … I wish I never told you about the Count." He said with regret and grabbing the young doctor by the arm, he led him to the back door of the tavern despite protest of the parishioners but some of them were to agree on the fact that at the present it would be for the best to escape.

"I don't care if this is the land where I was born!--- The stranger was right--- I don't want to die!" Despaired one of the farmers as he hurried out to prepare a cart and soon enough, several of the town's people had joined him. Before Gosling was able to object, the innkeeper pushed him inside the stagecoach. From above, Duckula witnessed these actions and he was utterly amused. The giant bat could deliver an attack directly towards the doctor, given how easy was to detect him due his antiquated attire and the camera he was carrying; still, he interfered not for he had mused a greater plan since the instant he laid his eyes on Von Gosling. "That mortal had come to face me--- he failed no doubt, but he arrived on his own choice ... or maybe was it a design of fate? ..." The creature growled quietly. "... Nevertheless, I detected on him no greed for a reward or a desire of fame, not even a wish for vengeance ... What a disgusting attitude! However ... Could it be?---.... ... I wonder... ..."

In the meantime, the doctor was still unable to fathom the burden he would be carrying now that the threads of fate had been tampered with. ".... Sir., oh please I---... I thank you ..." Gosling at last found his voice to express gratitude to the innkeeper. "... I will be praying Gott for your souls until I am able to come back---..."

"Prayers?! ... Don't trouble yourself, it would be of no use" Said one of the villagers, quietly and embittered. "... God have forgotten about us."

"That cannot be true! I shall pray for you all, our Lord will never forget His children!" Gosling stated firmly as the cart began to move.

"Well, then I pray God I will never see your face again … may He bless and keep you!" Von Gosling frowned in sadness, lowering his head upon hearing those last words from the proprietor of 'Ye Tooth and the Jugular', the man who had just saved his life.

As the stagecoach departed from the village, Gosling silently stared at the silver cross pendant he had on his hands, a gift from his mother that now held a much more profound significance. "… So, they believe our Lord has forgotten, ja? ..." He lamented in shame and remorse; no matter his efforts or his courageous discourse, in the end he was left trembling with fear in times help was most needed, it was an absolute disgrace. "… … I am to return, this is not over yet--- this awful mistake must be corrected … I will be back; that fiend shall be destroyed, I am going to save all those souls ... is a promise!"

Later, at the break of dawn, the Count had enough leisure time and his thirst was quenched, so he returned to his fortress. As expected, Igor was patiently waiting for his master's arrival. "Did you find that miserable mortal, Master?" Greeted the sinister butler.

"Ah, I let him go …" Duckula replied calmly, tonelessly even, like if the latest episode were of no relevance.

The vulture raised a brow with suspicion at the Count’s answer; after such an eventful evening, this behaviour from the master was something unforeseen. "… I am not sure, Sire … you should have taken the life of that wretched miscreant ... or perhaps brought him here to me, I could have offered that Gosling a most proper … … care."

"Worry not, dear Igor." The Count spoke, a grin crept onto his beak. "... Amongst all the pleasant visitors we have received through these the years, this one had proven to be the most interesting opponent".

"Oh indeed, Milord, Indeed! There is no use on finishing the fun so early …" Igor rubbed his hands in pleased anticipation of the delightfully wicked punishments he would be able to inflict over that insolent gander.

"That is right; you got the idea, my Igor!" The Count chuckled darkly. "… He is coming back, I assure you, and I will be waiting …" Then, the vampire grabbed Igor by the necktie, pulling his head down to meet his gaze. "After all … ..." Duckula continued, lowering his voice into a threatening though gleeful snarl. "… We have plenty of time ... … … don’t we, Igor?!"

________________

This is the first chapter from an old fanfiction of mine I am re-writing (began in 2009, is 2020 not completed yet, only three chapters are ready), is an attempt to set a prequel for the Count Duckula series, based on the Dear Diary and The Rest is History episodes, a particular scene that appears on the show's intro, the Castlevania games and last but certainly not least, Dracula the novel. Posting it here now as an experiment given I have no idea how it would look like on Tumblr, and so happy to see fans of the series!

Count Duckula and the characters on this chapter belong to Cosgrove Hall.

#duckula #count duckula

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 48

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary -Laufey informs the realm of his decision which leads to disapproval from some before Ella informs her mother of what is to happen, leading to her and Loki discussing her past a little more to interesting results.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @damalseer @perpetual-fangirl @tinchentitri @inspired-snowflace @raphaelaisabella @alexakeyloveloki @caffiend-queen @devilbat @nonsensicalobsessions @skulliebythesea @majoringinlife @salempoe @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @rookienumber98 @ivytoh @agarwaeneth @rosierossette @arch-venus25 @nessamaurice @winterisakiller

Request if you wish to be tagged

NOTES - I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don't post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so...yeah.

“Does something amuse you, Prince Loki?” Igor was a cantankerous old Jotunn at the best of times but the flaunting of such a tradition irked him all the more.

“Yes, actually it does. My mate made a funny comment on this matter.” He answered honestly.

“And what did she say that has you seeing fit to laugh at me?” The Jotnar glared at Ella, who smirked back.

“I stated that tradition when used simply to continue impractical practices, is merely aggressive guilt into coercion via the deceased.” Her words were clear and concise.

“I think it an accurate yet amusing statement, don’t you?” Loki chuckled to Igor.

“Coming from an Aesir, whose traditions are beyond rigid and deemed of importance…”

“What are you doing?”

The sound of another joining her caused Ella to yelp slightly and turn around. Seeing Loki looking at her curiously, she shook her head. “What?”

“I asked what are you doing?”

“Doing?”

“You are like a caged beast, pacing and all but frantic, looking to escape. You also yelped in shock, nothing seems to sneak up on you.”

“I’m not…”

“You are. Is something the matter?”

“How did you do that?” Loki had not heard the Bifrost blast through the quiet realm.

“So the Guardian can hear what you speak of?”

“Heimdall sees everything, there is little point in trying to hide from him.”

“Then why did he not tell the Allfather about when you were ill?” Loki asked, wondering why the guardian had not alerted anyone on either realm as to Ella’s condition.

“I did not let him see me, what he saw was what I wished for him to see, I suspect he was able to see me when I fell unconscious, I don’t know, I never asked him.”

“I do not like the idea of someone watching me all the time. How was I supposed to sneak out of the palace if I could be reported to my father?”

Ella found herself snorting slightly at his exasperation. “If you must know, I have something of a reputation as a trickster on my old realm. My parents used to get very irked.”

“I do not doubt it.” Ella grinned at him causing him to shake his head slightly. “I fear what sort of terror we have put in you.” Loki eyed her stomach warily causing Ella to laugh.

“You had begun to realise who I am before you willingly did that.”

“It would have been interesting if you had.”

Ella laughed slightly before her face turned into a frown and she placed a hand to her side.

Loki immediately ceased his jestful behaviour and rushed over to her worriedly. “Are you alright?”

Ella took his hand and placed it to where she had her own a moment before.

“He is unconsciously using his seidr.”

“What?”

Loki’s had yet to remove his hand from her stomach. He had been about to do so when he felt a little nudge against it. He chuckled slightly. “What have we created? He has your demeanour.”

“I do not wish to leave him down. To not be everything everyone expects. What if I fail?”

#pride and prejudice #chapter 48 #wolfpawn #loki fic

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astranne · 4 years

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(Natalia Romanova) Crossover Harry Potter x Marvel

So, Natalia Romanova. Daughter of Black Widow and the Winter Soldier. The Avengers are totally her honorary uncles and aunts. Since she‘s James‘ daughter she‘s a super soldier too and HYDRA did some experiments so she‘s now stronger/faster than Captain America. She is now also an empath and telepath. And since this is an AU, Black Widow is a witch (Harry Potter universe here). But she never learned magic like all the others, she never needed speels and a wand. Just like Natalia. The royal family has always been magic, so they are important too in the wizarding world. But since Natasha never has been at the magic places they think she‘s a squib and like her daughter magicless. Anyway.

So, the muggle world thinks, that Natalia goes to a private school with other rich kids, bc Natasha wants her childhood as normals as possible. They send her to Durmstrang, bc this is the perfect school for her. (In this fic, many dark wizard families send their children there, Durmstrang is almost as big as Hogwarts and a proud school. The asshole Igor somewhat is not there) And a former Red Room 'friend' of Natasha is teacher there, so she can train her daughter while school. She goes under the name Natalia Romanoff, but somehow they realize this is the princess of russia. Naturally they try to become her friend, but... her glare is really scary. And then she starts talking about her father and they are like, nooopee not with me. But someone doesn‘t recognizes her. One Draco Malfoy. His father sends him to Durmstrang, bc the school is known for the good teaching in DADA (they totally also learn some dark spells) and Lucius will not send his heir to the school where this Dumbleshit is. Draco only says once, 'my father will hear about this', but no one fears his father. They are all pretty chill and not like britain wizards. So Draco slowly changes, doesn’t become this little brat who runs to his father everytime. He’s more like: oh fuck, my mom will kill me, when he does something dumb. It‘s in the middle of the school year, when he sees Natalia in the library and they just start talking. He has no idea who she is, bc Malfoys hate the muggle world and yeah. Natalia notices that and decides, this is now my best friend. They start to hang out, prank some olders and become friends with Vikor Krum, who starts his career.

And everybody is like: boy, do you realize this is a princess? Draco is just confused until she tells him and he‘s just: why did you do this to me??? I thought we‘re friends? He takes it with humor, yk Draco isn’t this little shit like in canon, Well, he still can be, but only when necessary. Anyway, he’s totally proud, that he’s the best friend of the princess of russia.

Anyway. They become friends and Draco writes a letter, before he comes home. There he casually writes he befriended the Romanova heir and how she teached him some moves with knifes. His father pales, bc draco- how in the bloody hell did you become friends with the russian princess, who is the daughter of the most feared assassin??? His mother is proud and excited to meet this Natalia.

Anywayyy. Draco comes home, his father tries his usual shit, but his son just walks past him and hugs his mother. Narcissa approves™

Uhm... probably should mention that Draco let his hair grow? Bc omg- twelve year old Draco Malfoy with a undercut and a little bun. Omg- and then some years later. You either die, bc he‘s so cute or bc he‘s so hot.

Anyway. Draco and Natalia write through the summer and also meet. James begins to teach Draco, bc you are now the best friend of my daughter. She can‘t always protect you. The Malfoys meet the Romanovas and somehow the whole wizarding world knows this.

Lucius called Natalia a half blood, bc he tought James is one.

“Excuse me, my Lord. But my father is the head of the Barnes family, an old and ancient house of America. He is a true wizard, if the muggels wouldn‘t have tortured him, his magical core still would be intact.“ James stares at Lucius, like he’s ready to kill and then mutters something in russian. Natalia snorts unladylike, while Natasha grins. (James called Lucius a little boy, (in not so nice words) bc he fears his daughter who is twelve years old. Shame on you, Lucius)

Bc Natalia is bored, she created an Instagram account, where she immediately gained millions of followers.

“Hey there! You probably think, what the bloody hell is the princess of-"

“Stop swearing, young lady!“

“And this was my father... anyway. I have summer holidays and while I still prepare for the next school year, I have sooo much time to do nothing! And- Draco, come here! I want you to introduce to Instagram.“ Natalia grins widely, while she films Draco, who was reading a book about the history of Russia.

“What now, Nat?“, he mumbles.

“Look in the camera!“

“You know, if you say that, I will especially not doing it.“

“And this is my best friend Draco.“

“Draco Malfoy.“ She rolles her eyes playfully, when he still ignores her.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy... now stop being such a brat and come here.“

“I hate it, when you call me by my full name.“

“Anyway. This is Draco Malfoy, my best friend. We met in the middle of the school year and since then-“

“Everybody has to suffer because of our alliance.“

“We are friends, Draco! Stop being such a bloody-“

“Young Lady-“

“It was Draco!“ Her fans love their interactions. Some even do competitions about Draco‘s insults at random people.

“My dad teached Draco some things and now he won‘t let this bloody knife-“

“Natalia Romanova, no cruse words in this household.“

“I swear, my dad knows everytime when I cruse. It‘s spooky.“ Draco snorts, while he still twirls the knife in his hand.

“Your father knows everything you do.“

“That‘s true.“

She gets the permission, still to post on social media while being at school. As long she doesn’t exposes the wizarding world.

“I wanted to introduce you to another friend of mine! This is Viktor-“

“Stanislav! Did you hear? I‘m friends with the princess, take that you fucking asshole!“

“We are not friends anymore, Vic! Stanislav, you are now my new best friend!“

“Hey! What about me??“

Some people are concerned, that she only has male friends, since they only met the three.

“Please. Girls can be soo dramatic, it‘s so fucking annoying. But I have some female friends. Like Daphne. But she goes to another school.... Draco? Do you think we could kidnap Daphne, so she goes with us to school?“ Draco is so done with his life. Why did he became friends with her? She only makes problems...

So yeah, Natalia is a cheerful person, but if you try to hurt her friends or family, she raises hell. Draco tries to control the chaos she creates, but is not always successful.

Uhm, fast forward I think? To fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament. Bc Draco and Natalia are one of Victor‘s closest friends, (and have powerful names) the go for a year to Hogwarts. They also meet the golden trio, who has no idea who they are, but Ron is searching for the princess. Hermione tries to stop him, but he already did the mess. Natalia begins raises an eyebrow and asks him what business he has with the princess.

“I need to speak with her.“

“And you are? Draco, is he a part of the pure blood families?“ Draco just shruggs and says: “I‘m not entirely sure, he has the looks of a Weasly and while they are a pure blood family, no one of the elite likes them.“ Harry begins to shout at Draco, Ron too, while Hermione wants to bang her head against the wall.

“I‘m sure, this is a misunderstanding. I‘m not from England, so I don‘t know the important families like Draco does. He simply said what your political position in the wizarding world is. I‘m sure you know the Malfoys, this is Draco Malfoy and he‘s my best friend. I appologies, if something we said came out wrong, but in Durmstrang you normally don‘t offend students with the political positions of their parents.“

Hermione becomes friends with the two, Harry and Ron are then pissed. Does she care? No.

So, they have their fun in Howgarts, they also befriend the Weasly twins and prank some people.

And then comes the fifth year. People loose their absolute shit, bc boy- They haven‘t seen Draco for 3 months and suddendly he‘s one of the hottest teenagers of the world. They start to ship the two, but Natalia doesn’t react to the fans about this.

For information, they are in the sixth year when they come together (somewhat)

But in the summer after the fifth year, some agency contacts Draco and asks him if he wants to do modeling. And he‘s like, why not. Then I have also a name in the muggle world and much influence.

He does a great job. He gains a fandbase, (he already has one) who are like: fucking finally-bitch, what took you so long???

He also starts social medias, mostly talks about his life. And the world meets his mother and they are like: ok wow, we understand, Draco. She‘s an angel, a badass angel. We know now, why he‘s such a perfect boy

So yeah, Draco starts modeling, his father tries to throw a hissy fit but can‘t really do anything about it.

I totally forgot about it, but Voldemort came back and James is like- fuck this shit and killed him. And destroyed all his Horcruxes. He went to all his former followers and was like: bitches, this was a half blood who wanted to destroy the wizarding world. Don‘t follow his mistakes or I‘ll kill you all.

They look at him with big eyes and he then tells, he wants his daughter save and how can she be save, when the parents of her friends follow a mass murderer?

And yeah, this is how the Winter Soldier destroyed Dumbledore’s plans and didn‘t even know it.

And yeah. Draco starts also acting (he‘s really good at it) and is a part time teacher in Durmstrang. Natalia is doing princess stuff, represents her house in the wizarding world and just lives her life.

They marry some years later (the biggest wedding of the century after Natalia‘s parents).

Masterlist

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thewritenerd · 3 years

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Victor and Adam: NaNoWriMo Day 25

Victor

After updating Igor and Justine on the situation Victor made his way up to Adam’s room. Emptying out his school bag onto his bed he looked around for things he might need. The doctor said they would want to keep him in for a couple of days just to keep an eye on things. He’d need things to do. Books, that seemed a good place to start. Making his way over to the bookshelf he picked out a couple of things and put them in the bag. What else? His phone, but where was the charger? He eventually found it in the drawer of Adam’s bedside cabinet. Thinking what else to put in Victor spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Something light blue poking out from under the bedsheets. Reaching for it Victor grabbed hold of the material and pulled it out. It was a shirt, or what was left of one. One sleeve had been torn of and most of the buttons were missing. There were also several rips and tears. ‘What the? He thought. Then he remembered. That night he’d brought Adam to life as the boy had ran away he’d taken one of his shirts. And he kept it? Victor thought. Not just kept it, it seemed he was using it like some sort of comforter. Without a second thought he shoved the shirt into the bag and continued packing. He put in Adam’s notebook and a couple of pens, a puzzle toy which he could technically be done one handed, his headphones and his pills. Victor also decided to he’d let Adam borrow his tablet for a couple of days, as long as he was careful with it. He didn’t use it that often anyway. Making his way back down he saw Igor dusting the banister. ‘Ah Igor I didn’t want to say anything in front of Justine but I need to talk to you about this intruder of ours.’ Igor nodded.

‘Yes I’ve been thinking about that. Do you think they know about the tunnel?’ ‘They certainly know about the trapdoor.’ Victor said looking thoughtful. ‘Though there’s no way they can open it from the outside. Not unless they’re really strong. And if they were I don’t doubt they would have opened it by now.’ In fact the trapdoor could only really opened by a hidden mechanism that was operated by a remote Victor kept on him at all times. There was another way to the tunnels but the intruder would have to break in to the castle to find it. ‘Igor I want you to update security in here. I don’t care too much about this person skulking around outside. They’re not going to get anywhere anyway. But I can’t risk them breaking in.’ Igor nodded. ‘Good idea sir. I won’t be able to do anything today as you have the car. But tomorrow I can go into town and buy some security cameras.’ ‘Good. Now I’d better get going. I promised Adam I’d be back before he woke up.’ ***

When he first got back to the hospital Victor was informed Adam would be in surgery for a little longer. Sitting down he prepared himself for a long wait. Time crawled by but Victor stayed put in the waiting room, only leaving to grab something to eat from the hospital café. At one point a guy sat next to him. ‘Been here long?’ he asked. ‘Since six. More or less.’ Victor replied. ‘Ouch. So who you waiting on?’ Victor thought for a moment wondering how to answer. ‘My son.’ He replied. ‘Broken arm.’ ‘Must be a bad break if you’re here. Still kids are tough.’ He gave Victor a reassuring smile which he didn’t quite return. The man didn’t seem to upset though. ‘Can’t blame you for worrying though.’ Victor looked down at his hands. Truth was he was less worried about Adam’s physical wounds and more worried about him psychologically. His injury was very similar to William’s and though it didn’t seem he’d made the connection that very easily could have been down to shock. ‘So how old’s your son?’ ‘What? Oh he’s sixteen.’ ‘Any others?’ ‘No. It’s just him.’ ‘Got two myself. Ten and fourteen. Wanted to come with me to see their grandma but I said they couldn’t go skipping school.’ School? ‘Shit.’ Victor hissed. The man frowned at him. ‘Sorry. I forgot to call the school. Um excuse me.’ He stood up and headed outside. Once he was done explaining what had happened to the school receptionist, who seemed very understanding about the delay, he headed back in doors. ‘Ah Mr Frankenstein.’ The doctor who’d been treating Adam said as he approached him. ‘Your son’s out of surgery now. It all went well. He’ll probably be out until later this afternoon but you can see him now if you want.’ Victor simply nodded and after learning the room Adam had been moved to he headed there. He stopped in the doorway. Adam was in a bed much too short for him so they’d had to lay him on the bed sort of half sitting up. His head had fallen to one side so he was facing the door. In the bright hospital light Victor noticed the skin of his jaw didn’t quite match the skin on the rest of his head. Though the difference was subtle. Taking a deep breath Victor made his way over and sat down in the chair next to the bed. Almost without thinking he reached out and pushed a strand of Adam’s dark hair out of his eye. Adam didn’t stir, of course not he was drugged not just sleeping. As he watched him Victor couldn’t help but to think how much like a child he looked. Though Victor had set out to create a teenager and had used as many parts from people of the right age range, though that hadn’t been easy, but it was hard to see someone who towered over everyone as being so young. But now looking at him there was no doubt this was just a kid Victor was looking at. A kid you pushed away, he scolded himself. Because you couldn’t take responsibility. You were the only one to have had any say in his existence, yet you were the first to turn your back on him. ‘Great.’ He muttered. ‘My conscious is turning into Igor.’ He’d been hoping he’d have at least until the old man croaked before he started haunting him. No such luck it seemed. Turning his attention back to Adam he noticed a small birthmark on his earlobe he’d never noticed before.

***

When Adam finally woke up Victor was reading a paper he’d bought earlier that day. He didn’t notice he’d woken up at first. When he did look up he say Adam looking at him through half open eyes. ‘How are you?’ he asked folding up the paper. ‘Dunno. Can’t feel anything.’ Victor nodded. ‘Yes that’ll be the pian killers.’ Adam’s looked thoughtful. ‘How long have you been here?’ he asked. ‘Since you got out of surgery. Been a few hours.’ ‘You eaten?’ Victor laughed at this and shook his head. ‘Listen to you. Just out of surgery and you’re worrying about me.’ ‘Well if something happens to you I’m in trouble.’ Adam joked. For a moment the two just stayed looking at each other not speaking. ‘Oh I brought your stuff.’ Victor placed the bag on the bed. It should be enough to tide you over until you can come home. Adam nodded and began to pull on the zip with his good arm. He pulled out the tablet first. ‘You can borrow it. Just don’t go spending any money okay.’ Adam gave a small smile. ‘Yeah thanks.’ He then pulled out one of his books before putting it back. Then he frowned and reached in and pulled out the shirt. ‘I figured that was in your bed for a reason,’ Victor explained. Adam nodded. ‘I would have given it back. But I didn’t think anyone could repair it.’ Victor shook his head. ‘No it’s in a pretty bad state. But never mind, I have plenty of others.’ Adam let out a sigh of relief reached into the bag again the shirt still on his lap. Once he’d done checking the contents and confirming there was nothing else he wanted or needed he sat back again clutching the shirt in his good hand. ‘Ah I see we’re awake.’ Said a nurse as she stepped inside. ‘What’s this?’ she asked when she spotted the shirt. ‘I can’t sleep without it.’ Adam admitted his face turning red. ‘Oh don’t worry sweetie. You can keep your blanky.’ She turned to Victor. ‘So how is he?’ she asked. Victor frowned not sure why she was asking him. ‘Well the pain killers seem to be working.’ He said. The nurse nodded and made a note. ‘And do you have any questions.’ ‘Yeah how long do you think I’ll be in here?’ the nurse gave him a smile that people usually reserved for small children who wouldn’t shut up. ‘Oh sweetie you can’t go home just yet. You need to rest.’ ‘So how long will it be?’ Victor asked quickly noticing the growing anger in Adam’s eyes. ‘Oh a couple of days at least. Just to be sure. But we rarely keep anyone in longer. Not for a broken bone.’ She quickly checked the iv drip before leaving. ‘I don’t like her.’ Adam grumbled. ‘She doesn’t seem very professional.’ Victor agreed. ‘Do you want me to have a word with someone about that?’ Adam shook his head. ‘No I don’t want a fuss. I mean it’s just one nurse.’ Victor nodded. After sitting in silence for a moment Adam spoke again. ‘I’m really tired so if you want to go home and get something to eat I don’t mind.’ ‘Are you sure?’ Adam nodded his eyes closed. ‘Okay. I’ll be back to check up on you tomorrow. As soon as I can.’ He waited for Adam to respond but he was already asleep. Standing up he made his way out of the hospital to the car and drove back to the castle. It was well past dinner by the time he got home. Igor had something waiting for him in the oven. ‘I assumed you wouldn’t have eaten today.’ He said as he set the plate down. He went to pour the wine but Victor held out a hand to stop him. ‘Not tonight Igor.’ He tucked into the meal a little more eagerly than he usually would have, he really was starving, and finished without leaving a crumb. ‘So how is Adam?’ Igor asked as he took the plate. ‘Fine. The surgery went well. He was getting tired so I left him to get some reast.’ Igor nodded. ‘Anything for desert sir?’ Victor shook his head. ‘No I’m actually quite tired myself.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll be heading off to bed now.’ Igor nodded. ‘Well I’ll see you tomorrow sir. Sleep well.’ Victor nodded and headed out the door.

#nanowrimo #writing #writblr #victor and adam #long post #read more

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thatfanficstuff · 5 years

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Battle Scars - 17

Pairing: Tony Stark x Soulmate!Reader

Warnings: not really

A/N: Guess who feels like a functioning human being again? The end is coming. Oh no!

***

Tony clenched his teeth as pain flared through his cheek. He instinctively reached up to lay his hand against it, though he knew it was your injury, not his. “Son of a bitch, that hurt.”

All eyes turned to him.

“Someone hit her,” he bit out.

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” Bucky asked. “Maybe she fell or something.”

Tony didn’t want to think about Y/N being smacked around either but that was definitely what happened. He shrugged one shoulder. “Trust me, I’ve been smacked in the face enough to know what it feels like.”

“Yeah, I’ll buy that,” Bruce said after a pause.

Nat placed a hand onto Tony’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back, Tony. She’ll be okay.”

He shook his head as a humorless laugh escaped him. “I know she will, Nat.”

“You are being surprisingly calm about all of this,” Steve said.

Tony ran a trembling hand down his face. “I’m not calm. Far from it in fact. Knowing what she’s feeling helps.” His glanced around the room at his friends and teammates. “She’s not scared. Not worried. That helps, too.”

Steve frowned. “If she’s not scared, what is she?”

Tony grinned then, unable to help himself. “She is unbelievably pissed.”

***

You kept your head down for a long moment, trying to rein in your emotions. You had a lie to sell and it wasn’t going to work if your rage was written plainly on your face for all to see. With a whimper and a sniff, you shook your shoulders slightly to make it appear as if you were crying. “Please don’t hit me again. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“I thought you might.” Hammer’s smug little voice only served to make you angrier. The bastard didn’t even have the balls to hit you himself. “Start talking.”

Keeping your head bent forward, you darted your gaze to up to look at his thug. “Could he…Can he wait outside? He scares me.”

“Wait outside, Kevin,” Hammer instructed, his smug grin firmly in place.

“Boss—”

“I said, wait outside.”

When the man still hesitated, Hammer sighed and opened the door. “We’ll be fine. She’s not an Avenger, she just dates one. Plus, she’s tied to a chair. What do you think she’s going to do?”

After one more look at you, the thug finally followed orders and moved into the hall. Hammer shut the door behind him and turned back to you. “All right, Y/N. Tell me everything.”

***

“Sir, Director Fury is on the line for you.”

Tony pulled his gaze away from the screen where he was watching the video of you being shoved into the car for the tenth time and glanced at the screen showing Fury sitting on hold. He had been chewing on the end of his thumb and pulled it from his mouth. “Tell him I’m busy. I’ll have to call him back.”

“He says it is concerning Y/L/N.”

Tony’s head jerked up and he stopped the playback on the video. “Put him through.”

“Stark,” Fury said with a nod as his face appeared on the main screen. His eye took in the room beyond the man he was talking to and his usual bitch face shifted to downright pissed off. “I called to warn you about some chatter we picked up concerning Y/N but from the looks of all of you it appears I may be too late.”

When Tony didn’t respond, Steve stepped forward to stand beside him. “Y/N is missing, sir. Footage from security cameras in the area shows her being put into a gray sedan. Jarvis is having trouble tracking it. We didn’t get a shot of the plates.”

“Why weren’t we notified as once?”

“Well, sir—” Steve started but Tony spoke over the top of him.

“Because I’m more concerned with finding my soulmate than making sure you’re caught up on all the tower gossip. We don’t know who has her. When we do, we’ll go after her. If we need your help, we’ll let you know. Now, what was it you had to tell us?”

Tony could almost see Fury biting back the words he wanted to say. Instead, he gave a slight nod of his head. “One of our intelligence groups has been surveilling a group of former mafia operatives. They work for hire now. There was a conversation between two of them that took place in the early hours this morning. One of them mentioned being ‘hired to steal the Iron Man’s girl’. Naturally, this made its way up the chain to me and I called you. Now you know as much as I do.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Tony demanded.

“Didn’t know until about three minutes before I called you, Stark.”

“Who’s the operative?” Natasha asked, stepping forward.

Fury shook his head. “Don’t know his real name. He goes by Igor.”

Natasha spat out a stream of words in Russian. “Where is he?”

“We can’t get a lock on him. No one’s seen him since late this morning.”

Tony grew more irritated with every word that came out of Fury’s mouth. “Thanks for nothing, Fury. Call us when you know something useful, huh?” He disconnected the call and turned to lean on the edge of the desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Thankfully, everyone else gave him the moment of quiet he so desperately needed. He licked his lips and his eyes found Natasha’s. “This Igor…what do you know?”

***

You started off telling Hammer about the radio Tony fixed for you last week. Of course, you didn’t mention it was a radio. Instead, you described the parts you’d seen on the inside and made up a bunch of shit Tony was adding to it. To his credit, Hammer did ask you if you were remembering correctly as what you were saying didn’t make any sense. You didn’t care. You were simply buying time while you finished loosening the rope that bound your wrists.

More than one of the many training sessions you’d had with Clint and Natasha had been centered around escaping restraints. You had kind of hoped you’d never have to use it, but at least you’d paid attention. The ropes finally slackened enough to free you, though you stayed in position, not wanting to give anything away too soon. You needed an advantage. Hammer wasn’t an issue but his Thug was probably still in the hallway.

Time to switch tactics. You widened your eyes and looked up at Hammer. “Oh, I almost forgot. He’s working on this microexplosive. It’s completely undetectable to any sort of scan. X-rays, metal detectors, it won’t show for any of them.”

That got your captor’s attention, just as you knew it would. He took a step closer. “But Stark shut down the weapons division.”

You shrugged and braced yourself as Hammer took another step in your direction. “That’s what he told everyone but he works on stuff all the time. It’s all contract based now.”

He smacked his fist into the opposite palm. “I knew it. What else has been working on besides the explosive?”

Another step toward you brought him into range and you swung your leg up and around in a sweeping kick to the side of Hammer’s head. You were up in a flash, executing two more maneuvers the assassins had shown you in quick succession. A punch to the throat to keep him from calling for help and another kick to take his legs out from underneath him.

Hammer moaned as he rocked on the floor. You used one foot to turn him flat on his back before you grabbed your chair and sat it over the top of him. The crossbar sat right above his throat and kept him from getting up once you sat back in the seat. You straddled the chair while he pushed ineffectively against the legs. Leaning over, you ran your hands along his clothes until you found his phone in his jacket pocket.

Sitting up, you smiled down at the man. “I’m just going to make a call. You don’t mind, do you?”

He tried to say something and you drove your heel into his ribs.

“What was that?”

His only response was to moan and shake his head.

“That’s what I thought you said.”

#tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #iron man fanfiction #iron man x reader #avengers #soulmate au #tony stark x soulmate #avengers fanfiction #series #battle scars

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natromanxoff · 4 years

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Queen live at Town Hall in Leeds, UK - November 12, 1973

This is the first show of Queen's first UK tour.

Queen's first manager, Jack Nelson, persuaded Mott The Hoople's manager Bob Hirschmann to allow Queen to be the support act for their tour. Bob initially hesitated but eventually agreed. Queen would get plenty of valuable experience while out on tour for a couple months.

They would continue to use the tape of Procession as their introduction music before walking on stage to begin the show with Father To Son. Queen were one of the first bands to open a rock show in such a dramatic way, and were perhaps influenced by Yes who started doing this in 1972, using the tail end of The Firebird by Igor Stravinsky.

Brian May is asked (on 9-24-82, later published in the Jan '83 issue of Guitar Player magazine), "When did you start doing your extended onstage solo?" BM: "The first time we went out with Mott The Hoople. It wasn't very long in those days. It would be about half a minute." This pretty well indicates that they performed Son And Daughter more like the record version before the '73 tour (except for the radio show in September, which Brian must have forgotten about, quite understandably after all that time).

Brian later reflected on the period: "On tour as support to Mott The Hoople, I was always conscious that we were in the presence of something great, something highly evolved, close to the centre of the Spirit of Rock 'n' Roll, something to breathe in and learn from." In a 1998 radio spot, he expanded: "Mott The Hoople was really our first experience of life on the road, and a pretty blinding experience it was, I must say. It's always remained close to my heart, 'cause we grew up on that tour. We had to. It was just insanity. And to survive you had to adapt; you had to become a rock 'n' roll kind of animal and in the good sense of the word, you know. And, yeah, it was phenomenal. And I used to watch them do 'All The Way From Memphis' [which May had covered on his solo album Another World, the subject of this interview] every night, and every night the place would erupt; it was like an earthquake. They really were a fantastic band live. Should have stayed together, I have to say."

Morgan Fisher was Mott The Hoople's keyboardist at the time. He would later be Queen's auxiliary keyboardist for the first half of 1982.

These pictures were first seen on YouTube.

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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missmeikakuna · 4 years

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The Girl Who Cried Gay

Rated: T-M (It's something I can see a teenager reading and enjoying but could be given a more mature rating due to the swearing and the edgy jokes the characters make.) Fandom: Original story Relationship type: F/F Description: Edgy teenager Jimena's idea of a joke is coming out to her classmates every day. The thing is, she actually is gay but is too chicken to come out for real, playing off her numerous attempts as a joke. But this time she's going to tell the truth and confess to her best friend, the equally edgy rebel Vinciane. Her plan? Write an entire song in two weeks and perform it in front of everyone. Should be easy, right?

Right? Notes:

I want to thank Tyler, the Creator for inspiring this story. Your numerous jokes about you being into dudes before coming out for real was a source of fascination for me, which is why I wrote this story. Also, Igor is a great album. Congrats on the Grammy.

For my readers, keep in mind that my opinions do not always match those of the characters. These girls say things I never would. I hope you find them entertaining.

CONTENT WARNING: There is a mention of suicide but no actual suicide, just the characters being edgelords and joking about the topic.

Jimena picked her teeth with one of the spikes on her boots, which she had shaken off as the school day drew to a close. Before that afternoon’s teacher had the chance to chastise her for her choice in outfit… again… she stood on top of the table.

‘I’ve got something to tell you all. I…’ She wobbled a little on the table. ‘Woah, this is pretty difficult.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m gay.’

Everyone, the teacher included, rolled their eyes and resumed their in-class tasks. Vinciane leaned back in her seat as she looked up at Jimena. She watched this grand reveal with a smirk on her face that would make a lawyered-up business mogul jealous.

Her short, dyed red hair in a sidecut was a constant source of frustration for the teachers. Jimena tried to copy it with her black hair but settled on a faux sidecut with braids. In fact, she tried to copy every aspect of her appearance, a feat made difficult by their differing body types, with Jimena being tall and thin and Vinciane being short and curvy. Both wore dark and heavy makeup, also causing a stir among the teachers.

Vinciane almost dropped her smirk when she saw Jimena’s hands turn into trembling fists. Almost.

There was little point in being concerned since it wasn’t long before Jimena laughed and applauded herself.

‘You should have seen the looks on your faces! Get wrecked!’ She plopped back down off the table and nudged Vinciane in the ribs. ‘Lezzies for life, Vinny?’ she said, holding out her pinky finger and rivalling her smirk with her own. ‘We’ll get our own U-Haul and argue over who makes the sandwiches.’

Vinciane tied her pinky around Jimena’s. ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way. By the way, I’m making the sandwiches.’ Her accent was lightly French.

The two laughed loud enough to cause another quick lecture on manners from the teacher. Then it was Jimena’s turn to roll her eyes. Being the rebellious girl she was, she flipped the bird at her teacher… under the table.

That night, Jimena held her pillow in between her chest and her knees, slouching against her bedframe. She lifted her pinky and stared at it before bringing it to her lips in a gentle kiss. She looked at the acoustic guitar at the other end of the room, romantic lyrics flittering in her head.

The punk text tone on her bedside table sent lightning up Jimena’s spine. It was Vinciane’s favourite song. The text was accompanied by a poorly shot photo.

I put a gold bath bomb in and now the bathwater looks like piss. FML. Gonna kill myself, brb.

Jimena responded a little later than she had hoped, taking time to craft her text.

Is that a toaster in your bathtub or are you happy to see me?

Vinciane’s next text pushed Jimena’s heart up to her throat.

¿Por qué no los dos? Btw, you almost had me fooled today. Almost convinced me your verbal coming out shitpost was real. Excellent job, my love 😉

Oh, yeah. Shitpost.

Jimena pulled her numerous blankets on top of her body and rolled around until she was caved in by warmth. It did little to bring a smile back to her face, but at least she could bury herself and perhaps never come out.

The pity party was crashed by her mother calling her to the dinner table. She had no choice but to crawl out of her blanket cocoon and enjoy a nice meal of… supermarket tacos.

Two thoughts battled for prominence in Jimena’s mind. The first was wondering how her parents could have possibly come from Mexico when they had the most Americanised tastes.

The second was the reopening of the recent wound caused by her friend.

¿Por qué no los dos?

Her mother heard her sigh and asked her how school was. Jimena shrugged, using the beef and lettuce in her mouth as an excuse not to talk. Her mother didn’t buy it. Not that she ever could, what with Jimena resting her feet on the table and scowling at no one in particular.

After lecturing her on keeping the table clean, she asked, ‘Why must you always wear those shoes? Is this because of that girl?’

As Jimena managed to prove, swallowing food in an unambiguously angry way was something humans could do. A light clink hit everyone’s ears as she kicked the salt shaker, causing it to collide with her mother’s plate.

‘Leave her out of this,’ Jimena said in the clipped voice of someone who wanted to yell but knew she would receive a yell in return.

Her father tried to speak calmly. Emphasis on ‘tried’.‘We’re just a little concerned that you’ve, well, been acting differently since befriending her. You used to be such a bright girl. And why won’t you wear the dresses I made you?’ His voice cracked a little at the question.

‘Well, maybe you should make clothes that I actually want to wear.’

‘I don’t appreciate that tone, young lady,’ her mother chastised her, raising her voice even louder. There it was: the yell.

‘Well, you’re going to hear that tone a lot longer if you don’t shut the hell up!’

Jimena shouted, getting out of her seat and storming off to her room. She then went back into the dining room to retrieve her tacos and brought them to her room.

She took her phone out and texted with one hand while holding one taco in the other.

My parents can step in dog shit while stuck in a time loop. Shit on their shoes for all eternity.

After a few minutes that felt more like fifty, Vinciane responded in an almost insultingly short text.

Mood

Rather than take the length as an insult, Jimena held her phone to her chest and giggled. She was unsure whether it was the heat from the phone or something else that made her heart feel so warm.

That sensation didn’t last long when she remembered that Vinciane lived with her aunt. She immediately texted an apology. She didn’t have to wait long before getting a message back.

Don’t sweat it. If I lived under their house, I would have to live under their rules. My aunt gets me better anyway. She’s even okay with my nose ring.

The two continued texting through the night, and not once did Jimena admit to looking forward to going to school the next day.

The day that followed involved Vinciane skipping class and, without even asking her, being followed by Jimena. Vinciane sat by the pond, a place students weren’t allowed to be within ten feet of, and took out a cigarette. Upon seeing the horrified look on Jimena’s face, she chuckled and lowered her eyelids until they were half-closed.

‘You worried these will turn me from a dyke to a fag?’ she asked in a strong Cockney accent. ‘Don’t worry, love, I would never leave you.’ She took a drag of the cigarette and opened her eyes fully, returning to her original accent. ‘Oh, speaking of which, any guys you think are cute?’

‘None as cute as you,’ Jimena murmured, then gulped when she saw that Vinciane heard her. The stone she was sitting on started feeling mighty uncomfy.

‘No, but seriously. No one? There’s a guy who’s got my eye- what’s wrong?’

Jimena was looking down, focusing her eyes on the hem of her plaid skirt as she fiddled with it. Anything to stop tears from falling.

‘I’m gay.’ A laugh came from Jimena’s mouth out of habit.

Vinciane joined in. ‘Yeah, yeah. So which guy do you like?’

Jimena shrugged. ‘No one at this stupid school.’

‘Fair point.’ Some of the smoke reached Jimena, who couldn’t help but cough. This earned a snicker from Vinciane. Jimena pouted and reached for the other girl’s cigarette packet. Vinciane guarded it with her free hand. ‘I don’t think you’re ready for that. Wait ‘til you stop sounding like you’re dying of tuberculosis.’

‘No way. If I’m going out, it’s gonna be human mad cow disease that takes me down.’

‘Or AIDs.’

Jimena smiled and gave Vinciane a finger gun. ‘Or AIDS.’ The two were silent for a moment as Vinciane finished her cigarette. She squished the butt into the ground and stood up, stretching her arms and yawning.

‘Um, why exactly do you go to school anyway if you’re going to skip class?’ Jimena eventually asked.

Vinciane brushed her fingers through her hair. The sight took Jimena’s breath from her. ‘I mean, you’re here. And where else am I going to go?’

Jimena didn’t know how to respond to that, not that her airless lungs would have allowed her to respond at all. All she could really do was look away from Vinciane’s plump lips and pray that she would soon be able to breathe properly again.

A decision managed to get air pumping through her veins again. She was going to come out for real, and she was going to make it as convincing as possible.

At home that night, she jotted down ideas for this ceremony onto her notes app. The following morning, she gave Vinciane vague details about an announcement she planned to make and a song she would use to do it.

‘Is this another one of your coming out ceremonies? This might be your most over the top one yet. Looking forward to it.’

‘No, no, it’s quite different. Okay, so for the announcement song, I will sing it to you and you’ll sit there all surprised.’

‘What will you be announcing?’

‘I have to make sure you look surprised.’

‘You saying I can’t act?’ Vinciane asked as she crossed her arms.

‘That’s not what I mean! I just want the song to be a surprise to everyone, including you. I may dance around you, by the way, so don’t be surprised by that. Focus on the content.’

‘So where are you going to say… er, sing this announcement?’

‘The cafeteria at lunch, two weeks for now. That should be long enough to write and rehearse a song, right?’

‘I guess. So are you going to play the song on your acoustic guitar?’

‘I was thinking of asking the music department to borrow one of their electric guitars. I think the song would be cool with a punk edge.’

‘Good luck getting one in two weeks. And an electric guitar kind of needs a band with it, so you’ll be spending a lot of those two weeks trying to get bandmates. Won’t the song be more, I don’t know, sincere sounding if it’s acoustic?’

‘You think so? You sure it wouldn’t be fake deep? I don’t want to sound like some hipster dude trying to pick up a girl at a coffee shop.’

‘If the lyrics are sincere, an acoustic guitar will highlight them. I doubt you’ll sound pretentious.’

Jimena took a deep breath and put her fist in her other hand as she exhaled. ‘Okay, I’ve got this.’

Vinciane stroked Jimena’s hair, not noticing the warmth radiating from the other’s cheeks. ‘I know you do.’

Instead of hanging out with Vinciane, Jimena spent lunchtime putting lyrics into her phone. Vinciane kept walking up to her and trying to sneak a glance, but Jimena’s screen-covering reflexes were way too good.

At home, Jimena continued typing on her phone, even during dinner. Cue the nagging from both her parents, whom she ignored.

As she lay in bed, she tried to continue typing away but the claws of doubt picked at her brain. She sat on her side, listening to the scarce sounds surrounding her. Her ears picked up the whir of a sewing machine, a sound that pulled her up like the strings of a marionette. After listening for a while with her eyes closed, the familiarity of the sound lulled her back down onto the bed.

She knew exactly what was going on and was tempted to tell her father not to bother, but the sound softened the pillow she lay on. She let it play in the background like an ambient album full of rain sounds.

Before she could fall asleep, and boy was she tempted to, an idea popped into her head. She sat up again and grabbed her guitar, playing riffs in time with her father’s sewing. The plucking of her guitar mirrored the sound of the needle.

She made a new note on her phone and wrote new lyrics referencing the sewing terms she could remember her father mentioning. Half an hour later, she put the phone down and got into her pajamas.

The first thing Jimena saw when she woke up was a finished dress hanging from the doorknob. A piece of paper was taped to the hanger, saying, ‘For when you perform your next song’. She smiled until she received a text from Vinciane. She pictured Vinciane scrunching her nose at her and tossed the dress next to the bin tucked in the corner of her room.

The following lunchtime, it was Take Two for Vinciane’s attempts to uncover Jimena’s lyrics. Once again, she failed.

‘Come on, can’t you show me a little bit?’

‘For the last time, no!’

A pout stayed on Vinciane’s lips for the rest of the day.

When she dropped her backpack by her bed, Jimena saw the dress her father had made neatly folded on the bed. She sighed and threw it back towards the bin, narrowly missing it. The next few days were a pattern of the dress appearing folded on the bed and her throwing it in the bin. Each day, her father’s shoulders drooped further and further until he looked like a caveman with depression.

During those days Vinciane didn’t pry any longer and instead spent the time sitting next to Jimena and offering words of encouragement as the girl silently edited her own lyrics. She reached for Jimena’s free hand but Jimena wriggled out of her grasp to start typing with two hands.

Once again, Vinciane pouted for the remainder of the day.

Jimena practised over and over again at home, at least until her mother yelled at her to knock it off. The ‘knock it off’ point was at 10 o’clock at night. She gave her mother the middle finger but did indeed knock it off.

However, she continued adjusting the sheet music and playing the song in her head well into the night. Naturally, this led to her coming to school with bags under her eyes and little patience for Vinciane’s gestures of friendliness. Apparently a quick, non-invasive question about how the song was going was enough to set off an atomic bomb.

‘Shut it, Vinny!’

Vinciane blinked and stepped back. ‘Sorry.’

Jimena almost apologised too but couldn’t bring the words out. Vinciane made sure not to bother her until the two weeks were up.

Having her muse not by her side made it both easier and more difficult to practice the song. On the one hand, more time to herself without worrying about the secret getting out. On the other, no words of support and no one to look at when she needed a boost of inspiration. Doubt’s claws scratched at her psyche again.

That night, she sat in the dark, Vinciane’s verging-on-tears face playing over and over in her head like a scratched CD.

The morning of the performance day was the same as usual, complete with the neatly folded dress on the bed. Jimena groaned as she shoved the dress into her backpack.

Vinciane didn’t show up at class. Alarms rang in Jimena’s ears. What if the most important audience member wasn’t there for the performance?

After changing at the beginning of lunch, she wasted valuable rehearsal time searching the school for Vinciane. She wasn’t at the pond nor behind the gardener’s shed where the druggies usually hung out.

It was five minutes before the end of lunch by the time she found Vinciane in a classroom. The same classroom Vinciane would have been in that morning had she not skipped class.

Vinciane’s eyes popped out of their sockets upon seeing Jimena in the dress. Its colour was not unfamiliar- black, as always. However, it was frilly and lacy and buoyant, paired with knee-high socks and a little bonnet. It was utterly adorable.

As soon as the shock wore off, she glared at her. ‘Come to tell me to shut it?’ Jimena tightened her grip on her acoustic guitar. ‘Or maybe you want to take me to the cafeteria so everyone can hear the song you refused to show me.’

Jimena stepped closer and began playing the guitar. She breathed in, then out, then in again.

‘You pull me in... like a thread caught in a sewing machine.’ She pronounced the last syllable of ‘machine’ pretty weakly to get it to rhyme with ‘in’.

She continued. ‘I don’t know where this is going. This sin.... gives me pins and needles, you’re giving me the feels. Now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.’

She strummed the guitar rapidly, sending a warm sound to a smiling Vinciane. ‘I’m really sorry if I’m bursting at the seams. It’s so hard standing next to the girl of my dreams. When you’re edgy, I keep folding like a hem. It’s so hard to admit that you’re my favourite femme.’

Vinciane’s cheeks went red while Jimena’s playing slowed down. ‘Your jokes leave me in stitches but my foot’s in my mouth. I want to tell you how I feel but I don’t know how.’

Jimena circled around Vinciane’s chair, speeding up her strumming. Her heart was beating faster than the song but, for the first time, she wasn’t going to back out now.

She returned to the tune she started with. ‘Well, I’m as straight... as the hem of a big swing skirt. Don’t hate, I’m not looking to get hurt. A date... would be wonderful, don’t judge. My feelings simply won’t budge and I feel like this might as well be fate.’

It was time for the outro. ‘No, this is no joke. No this is no prank. I’m gay as fuck and with some luck, I got you in my ranks. This is the real me and yes, my heart is true. I’m not that tough, it’s all a bluff. Just know that I like you.’

Vinciane looked into Jimena’s eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She stood up and whispered in her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

‘You didn’t need to act tough, you know. I’d have liked you either way.’

‘Um, so about that guy you have your eye on-’ Jimena asked.

‘Oh, that?’ Vinciane’s smirk returned as she put her index finger against her own lips. ‘That was a lie. Just wanted to test the waters, plus I didn’t know how to tell you. You won’t get mad at me for that, right?’

Jimena shook her head and then rubbed the back of her neck. ‘So, uh, how does a date sound?’

‘Make it two. Then we can get a U-Haul. I’m still making the sandwiches, by the way. I’ve seen you in Home Ec and you kind of suck in the kitchen.’

Jimena giggled and grabbed her hand as the two walked out of the classroom. ‘Sounds like a plan. But for now, we should just focus on how to convince everyone else that we’re a couple for real this time.’

Vinciane shrugged. ‘Does it matter? I know and you know. Who cares what the others think?’

The bell rang and Vinciane followed Jimena into another classroom. During class, they spent less time listening to the teacher and more times sneaking glances at each other. Vinciane played with the ribbon attached to Jimena’s bonnet, twirling the pretty fabric around her finger. Jimena ran her kitten-heeled shoe over the spikes on Vinciane’s boot, smiling at the rough sound.

#lesbian #yuri #fiction #romance #writing #LGBT #lgbt romance #original fiction #drama #comedy #The Girl Who Cried Gay

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